ICEKAND 


W.  S.C.RUSSELL 


•         .  .       «         •     •  • 

' .  •     ......     .    . 


»    — 


Mrs.  Russell  in  the  Festal  Costume  of  Iceland. 
The  Author  in  the  Full  Dress  of  the  Faroese 


ICELAND 


HORSEBACK  TOURS  IN  SAGA  LAND 


W.  S.  C.    RUSSELL 

Illustrated  from  Photographs 
By  the  Author 


JARTIetVeRlTATI 


BOSTON:   RICHARD  G.  BADGER 

TORONTO :  THE  COPP  CLARK  CO.,  Limited 


'"opyright,    ign,  by  Richard  G.  Badger 


All  Rights  Reserved 


•    •  •  «  «  ■ 

t       •       •  •  •  • 

•  •  *  •  .  • 

*  •  ■         •  • 


•       ■ 


The  (iOkham  Press,  Boston,  U.S.A. 


TO   MY   WIFE 

GRACE 

WHO  TWICE   COURAGEOUSLY  ACCOMPANIED   ME 

OVER    ICELANDIC    TRAILS 

AND   TWICE 

DISPLAYED  THE  GREATER  COURAGE 

REMAINING  AT   HOME 

ALONE 

THIS  SIMPLE  RECORD  OF  OUR  WANDERINGS 

AFFECTIONATELY 

I 

DEDICATE 


7  !  3 75 


FOREWORD 

This  Foreword,  were  it  not  for  the  tyrant  Custom, 
might  as  well  be  omitted,  since  a  preface  is  seldom 
read.  Boldly  I  make  my  first  appearance  before  the 
critical  public  with  no  excuses  to  offer  and  no  apology 
to  the  reader  for  adding  another  volume  to  the  long 
list  of  travel  books  in  the  English  tongue.  But  I  have 
reasons  why  I  have  ventured  into  print. 

First,  —  Iceland  has  a  fascination  for  all  who  know  it. 
Its  history,  its  ancient  and  modern  literature,  its  legends 
and  folklore,  the  people  with  their  customs  of  a  thou- 
sand years  unchanged,  the  magnificence  and  grandeur 
of  its  scenery,  its  bird  and  plant  life,  its  unexcelled 
opportunities  for  the  student  of  geology, — all  these 
and  many  more,  are  reasons  why  all  the  English  speak- 
ing people  should  know  something  of  this  ancient 
branch  of  the  Gothic  line  from  which  time  and  circum- 
stance have  separated  the  Angle  and  the  Saxon. 

Second, — There  is  little  or  nothing  in  the  English 
language  that  is  authoritative  concerning  present  condi- 
tions in  Iceland.  Henderson,  publishing  in  1819,  and 
Miss  Oswald  in  1882,  are  the  only  writers  in  English 
who  have  given  to  the  public  a  fair  and  appreciative 
story  of  Iceland  and  its  people.  True  it  is  that  there 
are  a  few  brief  works,  mainly  the  accounts  of  a  sojourn 
of  two  or  possibly  three  weeks  in  the  country,  but  they 
are  of  necessity  limited  in  scope  of  observation  and  lack- 
ing in  appreciation  of  real  conditions.  A  character 
study  of  the  conservative  Icelander  may  not  be  com- 
pleted in  a  single  season,  one  must  live  with  him  to  know 
him. 

Third, — The  kindness  with  which  my  numerous  lec- 
tures on  Iceland  have  been  received  by  the  public  and 
the  manifest  lack  of  any  definite  knowledge  concerning 
this  country  and  its  people  have  led  me  to  place  before 
the  public  this  straightforward,  simple  tale  about  the 
Icelanders  with  some  descriptions  of  their  fascinating 


FOREWORD 

land.  It  is  the  result  of  extended  travels  during  the 
summers  of  1909,  1910,  191 1  and  1913  through  the 
well  known  sections  and  in  the  out-of-the-way  places  as 
well  as  the  unknown  portions. 

I  desire  to  make  the  following  acknowledgments: — 
I  have  both  Henderson  and  Miss  Oswald  to  thank  for 
my  first  interest  and  their  observations  and  remarks  have 
ever  been  in  my  mind  for  a  comparison  with  my  own 
experiences.  My  thanks  are  due  to  many  Icelanders,  to 
all  those  who  unselfishly  opened  their  doors  that  I 
might  share  their  hospitality,  more  especially  to  those 
who  in  kindness  answered  my  numerous  questions,  often 
quite  personal,  about  their  countrymen  and  customs, — 
in  particular  do  I  mention  Helgi  Zoega,  who  has  been 
untiring  in  furnishing  ponies,  provisions  and  sound  ad- 
vice; Steffan  Steffanson,  who  has  written  many  lengthy 
letters  in  answer  to  inquiries;  Olafur  Eyvindsson,  my 
friend  and  trusty  guide,  whose  name  frequently  occurs 
in  these  pages  and  Dr.  Geir  T.  Zoega,  First  Master  of 
the  Latin  School  at  Reykjavik,  for  his  advice  and 
council.  Finally,  I  acknowledge  my  indebtedness  to  her, 
to  whom  this  volume  is  dedicated,  for  her  kindly  criti- 
cism of  these  pages  while  in  progress  of  composition 
and  for  the  final  reading  and  examination  of  proofs. 

Sir  Walter  Scott  has  said  in  reference  to  one  of  his 
poetical  works : — 

,  though  scarce  my  skill  command 
Some  feeble  echoing  of  thine  earlier  lay, 

Though   harsh  and   faint  and  soon  to  die  away, — 

*     *     * 

Yet  if  one  heart  throb  higher  at  its  sway, 

The   wizard   note  has  not  been   touched   in   vain." 

And  so  I  say, — if  one  person  acquires  an  interest  in 
Iceland  and  its  noble  people,  its  history  and  its  ancient 
tales, — this  labor  has  not  been  in  vain. 

Springfield,  Massachusetts, 
February,  1 91 4. 


CONTENTS 

Chapter  Page 

I     HISTORICAL    13 

Outline  of  Discovery  and  Settlement. 

II     THE  LURE   31 

Why  I  Go  to  Iceland. 

III  THE  WAY   34 

How  to  Get  There. 

IV  FAROE    37 

The  Faroe  Islanders,  their  Manners  and 
their  Islands. 

V     VESTMANNEYJAR   50 

TheW estman  Islands  on  the  South-west 
Coast. 

VI     REYKJAVIK     60 

Educational  and  Sociological. 

VII     THINGVELLIR    76 

The    Mecca    of    Iceland,    Historical, 
Descriptive. 

VIII     GEYSIR   98 

The  Greatest  Geyser  Known. 

IX     GULLFOSS     117 

Waterfalls,  People  and  Customs. 

X     HEKLA  131 

Its  Ascent,  Its  History,  Its  Grandeur. 

XI     KRISUVIK    157 

Descriptive  Customs  and  Information. 

ICELAND   REVISITED   182 

An  Appreciation. 


XII     SEYSISFJ0R8R    , 184 

The  East  Coast,  the  Scenery  and  the 
People. 

XIII  MyVATN     204 

>The  Fairest  Spot  in  All  That  Land. 

XIV  KRAFLA   229 

Volcanic,  Historical,  Experiences. 

XV     VATNSDALR     243 

Descriptive,  Sagas  and  Romance. 

XVI     REYKHOLT     275 

Caves,    Waterfalls,    Hot   Springs    and 
Snorri. 

XVII     APPENDIX    300 

Notes  and  Corrections. 

INDEX    306 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

FACING    PAGE 

Mrs.  Russell  in  Festal  Costume  of  Iceland,  the 

Author  in  Full  Dress  of  the  Faroese,.  Frontispiece 

Cutting  up  Whale  Meat  at  Thorshavn, 38 

Heads  of  the  Bottle  Nose  Whale, 38 

Helgafell,  Volcanic  Cone,  V  estmannaeyjar , 56 

A  Chain  of  Basalt  Pyramids  in  Faroe, 56 

The  Hay  Market  and  the  Harbor  at  Reykjavik,  66 

An  Odd   Corner  in  Reykjavik,    66 

The  Latin  School  at  Reykjavik,   72 

The    Thinghus,   Parliament  Building,  Reykjavik,  72 

Foot  of  the  Oxerd  in  Almannagjd,    96 

Lbgberg,    Mount   of   Laws,    between   the    Rifts, 

Armannsfell  in  the  Distance, 96 

Bridge  River,  Bruard,  near  Gey  sir,    114 

Tube  of  Geysir  Filling,  Photographed  from  within 

the   Basin,    114 

Favorite  Ponies,  Sunlocks  and  Greba, 158 

Mountains  of  Sulfur,  Solfataras,  at  Krisuvik 158 

When  the  Fog  Lifted, — Entrance  to  Seydisfjordr,  184 

Washing  Split  Cod  at  Faskrudsfjordr, 184 

Godafoss,  the  Icelandic  Niagara,  on  the  Skjalfan- 

dafljot,    204 

Island  Craters  in  the  Myvatn,  from  Skutustadir,  204 
Fording  a  Shallow  Arm  of  the  Myvatn, 

Turf  Cottage  in  the  Distance, 218 

Contorted,  Twisted  and  Crumpled  Lava  at  Skutus- 
tadir,       218 

A  Hot  Water  Fall  at  Hveravellir,   (Hot  Spring 

Valley) ,    226 

Slutness,  Crater  Island  in  the  Myvatn, 

Home  of  the  Golden  Eyed  Duck, 226 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Flag  of  the  Arctic  Club  of  America 

On  the  Summit  of  Krafla, 238 

Obsidian  Ridge,  Hrafntinnuhryggr,  near  Summit 

of  Krafla, 238 

Thverd,  a  Highland  Home  in  the  Oxnadalr,  ....    248 
Vatnsdalsholar,  Numberless  Conical  Hills  mVatns- 

dalr,    248 

The  Glacier  of  Lang  Jokull  in  the  Kaldidalr,   .  .    276 

Glaciers  and  Moraine  on  ArnavatnsheiSi, 276 

Jrhver,  River  Hot  Springs  near  Reykholt, 292 

Reykholt,  Ancient  Stead  of  Snorri,  Typical  Ice- 
landic  Farm,    292 


ICELAND 


ICELAND 

i 
i 

CHAPTER  I 

HISTORICAL 

Atossa.     And  who  is  set  over  them  as  a  shepherd  of  the  flock,  and  is 

master  of  the  army? 
Chorus. — They  call  themselves  the  slaves  of  no  man,  nor  the  subjects 

either. 

— Aeschylus. 

ISTORICALLY,  Iceland  is  unique.  As- 
syria, Egypt,  Greece,  Italy,  Mexico, — 
each  has  a  prehistoric  period  of  human 
habitation,  when  man  loved  and  hated, 
and  competed  with  the  brutes  for  existence.  He  fash- 
ioned his  instruments  from  stone  and  made  self-preserva- 
tion his  first  and  only  law.  A  sturdy  race,  little  re- 
moved from  the  highest  brutes,  filled  with  animal  vigor 
and  endowed  with  brute  passions,  held  all  known  lands 
in  prehistoric  time.  Step  by  step,  cycle  upon  cycle, 
brute  force  submitted  to  reason;  culture  and  refinement, 
mental  acquisition  and  spiritual  attainment  characterized 
an  evolutionary  race  of  human  beings  in  which  each 
developing  cycle  was  founded  upon  the  decadence  of  the 
prehistoric. 

Not  so  with  Iceland.  A  myriad  centuries  the  Atlantic 
had  rolled  its  billows  against  these  basalt  cliffs,  the 
Arctic  packed  its  ice  upon  these  shores,  the  beetling 
mountains  cast  their  rugged  outlines  upon  the  quiet 
fiords,  the  great  Plutonic  candles  flamed  in  the  Arctic  air 
and  guttered  the  land  again  and  again  with  scorching 
streams  of  molten  rock.  The  seal  basked  in  the 
sunshine  of  the  lengthened  summer,  the  salmon 
sported  in  the  glacial  streams  and  millions  of  birds  con- 
gregated on  the  lofty  cliffs.  All  life  was  blissfully  ig- 
norant of  its  great  enemy,  man. 

13 


i4  ICELAND 


•  • 


There  are  no  prehistoric  conditions  in  Iceland. 

The  men  who  settled  Iceland  were  neither  serf  nor 
savage.  They  were  men  of  might  and  power,  fearless 
and  of  high  birth  and  of  the  highest  mental  capacity 
in  the  ancient  days  of  Norway.  The  cause  of  their  emi- 
gration is  related  by  Snorri  in  Heimskringla.  Halfdan, 
the  Black,  was  one  of  the  petty  kings  of  Norway.  At  his 
death,  he  left  his  realm  to  Harald,  a  child  of  ten  years, 
known  in  history  as  The  Fair  Haired.*  It  is  to  the  in- 
fluence of  a  high-minded  woman,  Gyda,  daughter  of 
Eric,  King  of  Hordaland,  that  the  settlement  of  Iceland 
by  the  nobles  of  Scandinavia  is  due.  Harald  sent  his 
messengers  to  Gyda  with  the  request  that  she  become 
his  wife.    To  their  demand  she  replied, — 

"I  will  not  waste  my  maidenhood  for  the  taking  to 
husband  of  a  king  who  has  no  more  realm  to  rule  over 
than  a  few  folks.  Marvelous  it  seems  to  me  that  there 
be  no  king  minded  to  make  Norway  his  own  and  be  sole 
lord  thereof  in  such  wise  as  Gorm  of  Denmark  or  Eric 
of  Upsala  have  done." 

Her  reply  in  no  way  angered  Harald.  On  the  con- 
trary he  praised  her  high  spirit  and  said, — 

"For  she  has  brought  to  my  mind  that  matter  which 
it  now  seems  to  me  wondrous  I  have  not  had  in  my 
mind  before." 

He  then  made  the  following  oath, — 

"This  oath  I  make  fast,  and  swear  before  that  God 
who  made  me  and  who  rules  over  all  things,  that  never- 
more will  I  cut  my  hair  or  comb  it,  till  I  have  gotten  to 
me  all  Norway,  with  the  scat  thereof  and  the  dues,  and 
all  rule  thereover,  or  else  I  will  die  rather." 

After  years  of  strenuous  warfare  he  brought  all  Nor- 
way under  his  rule,  wedded  Gyda  and  held  a  feast. 
Snorri  completes  the  story  as  follows, — 


♦See  The  Story  of  Harald  Hairfair,  Saga  Library,  Vol.  III. 


HISTORICAL  15 

"So  King  Harald  took  a  bath,  and  then  he  let  his  hair 
be  combed,  and  then  Earl  Rognavald  sheared  it.  And 
heretofore  it  had  been  uncombed  and  unshorn  for  ten 
winters.  Aforetime  he  had  been  called  Shock-head,  but 
now  Earl  Rognavald  gave  him  a  by-name  and  called  him 
Harald  Fair  Haired,  and  all  said  who  saw  him  that  he 
was  most  soothly  named,  for  he  had  both  plenteous  hair 
and  goodly." 

Harald  lived  from  860  to  933  A.  D.  He  introduced 
that  new  doctrine  of  middle  Europe  that  made  the  peo- 
ple the  king's  retainers  at  all  times  and  not  on  special 
occasions.  It  was  a  centralization  and  consolidation  of 
power  and  royal  authority.  It  laid  taxes  upon  all  the 
lands  and  interfered  with  what  the  people  had  ever  held 
as  their  vested  rights.  It  enabled  the  monarch  to  meddle 
with  the  holdings  of  his  people  and  aimed  to  cement 
the  entire  country  into  one  kingdom  of  power  through 
a  central  head  rather  than  to  permit  the  existence  of 
several  petty  realms,  each  presided  over  by  a  Jarl  who 
was  jealous  of  his  more  powerful  neighbors.  To  the 
lesser  rulers  the  course  of  Harald  was  tyrannical,  a 
curse  upon  their  freedom,  a  blight  upon  their  ambition. 
As  we  view  the  situation  from  the  distance  of  ten 
centuries,  it  was  a  step  in  the  progress  of  the  nations 
that  was  to  result  in  a  blessing  through  the  introduc- 
tion of  Christianity  and  the  ultimate  progress  of  civi- 
lization. The  freemen  resisted  as  long  as  they  could; 
beaten  again  and  again  they  gathered  their  waning 
strength  and  renewed  the  desperate  struggle,  but  to  no 
purpose.  One  by  one  the  freeholders  came  under  Har- 
ald's  dominion.  Many  withdrew  from  the  scene  of 
strife,  forsook  the  land  of  their  birth,  preferring  exile 
with  their  accustomed  liberties  to  vassalage  under  con- 
ditions, where,  as  they  deemed,  no  free-born  man  would 
care  to  live. 

We  now  read  of  them  in  many  lands.    France,  Italy, 


1 6  ICELAND 

Spain, — each  in  turn  feels  the  fury  of  the  wrath  of  the 
fair-haired  warriors  of  the  north.  A  century  later,  we 
behold  these  restless  wanderers  victorious  in  the  streets 
of  Byzantium.  They  check  their  foes  from  whatever 
source  they  come,  never  give  quarter  and  swiftly  ride 
to  victory,  be  it  on  their  spirited  chargers  or  in  their 
high-prowed  seahorses.  In  Sicily,  Asia,  the  shores  of  the 
Black  Sea,  in  Greece,  in  northern  Africa,  no  matter 
where,  the  stoutest  champions  of  the  Moslem  or  the 
less  valiant  warriors  of  the  declining  Roman  Empire, 
all  feel  the  force  of  the  northern  blast  and  succumb  to 
the  prowess  of  the  Northmen.  Wherever  they  go  they 
leave  their  mark,  and  to  this  day  the  arsenal  of  Venice 
is  scored  with  runes  which  boast  the  triumphs  of  the 
Vikings. 

Of  all  their  wanderings  the  islands  "west-over-the- 
sea"  were  their  chosen  field  for  conquest.  For  centuries 
the  coast  and  river  hamlets  of  England,  Scotland  and 
Ireland  were  in  constant  dread  of  their  bloody  depreda- 
tions. Their  blows  were  quickly  struck.  Whence  they 
came  the  Briton  did  not  know.  Swift  as  the  hawk  upon 
the  sparrow,  they  swept  down  upon  some  quiet,  in- 
dustrious hamlet  with  merciless  weapon  in  hand.  Fire, 
pillage  and  slaughter  followed  in  their  wake.  They 
plundered  home  and  sanctuary,  tossed  in  sport  the 
screaming  children  on  their  pikes,  sent  their  mothers  to 
shame  and  serfdom,  and  left  the  erstwhile  peaceful 
Briton  to  quench  the  ebbing  stream  of  life  in  the  smould- 
ering embers  of  his  former  home. 

Ireland,  where  a  civilization,  greater  than  we  shall 
ever  know,  was  crumbling,  lured  them  to  mingle  in  the 
strife  between  its  petty  lords,  from  which  the  Vikings 
always  issued  with  the  lion's  share  of  the  spoil  and  glory. 
Scotland,  and  its  adjacent  islands,  offered  tempting 
chances  for  swift  descent  upon  unprotected  hamlets; 
and  in  the  hours  of  their  rest  or  preparation  for  a  new 


HISTORICAL  17 

onslaught,  its  channels  afforded  them  protection  and 
opportunity  to  refit  their  ships.  The  blow  struck  and 
they  were  away  with  seahorse  laden  to  the  water's  edge, 
seeking  the  security  of  the  Orkneys,  the  Shetlands  and 
the  distant  lava  peaks  of  Faroe.  These  island  groups 
ultimately  became  the  homes  of  those  who  dared  not 
return  to  Norway  or  had  become  too  aged  to  mingle 
longer  in  the  robbery  of  Europe.  From  these  islands 
the  self-exiled  Northmen  sailed  forth  to  assist  now  one 
faction  of  England,  Scotland  and  Ireland,  and  now 
another,  and  even  vented  their  spite  by  continued  bold 
and  dastardly  forays  upon  the  domains  of  Harald. 

In  860  Naddodd,  a  Faroe  Viking,  left  his  native 
Isles  and  was  driven  by  contrary  winds  deep  into  the 
stormy  waters  of  the  north.  For  days  no  land  was  vis- 
ible, and  the  anxious  eye  beheld  only  the  boundless  waste 
of  waters  shrouded  in  impenetrable  fogs,  and  the  oc- 
casional glimpses  were  only  of  the  rolling,  drift-strewn 
sea  ever  beyond.  At  length,  the  mists  were  lifted,  and 
the  plucky  mariner  beheld  the  snow-capped  peaks  of 
Iceland.  A  landing  was  effected  but  Naddodd  found 
no  traces  of  human  beings,  and  in  his  deep  disgust  he 
christened  the  newly  discovered  country  Snaeland,  im- 
mediately taking  his  departure. 

In  864  Gardar,  a  Swedish  Viking,  in  attempting  to 
reach  the  Hebrides,  was  driven  by  adverse  winds,  as 
Naddodd  had  been,  and  at  length  reached  Iceland.  He 
explored  the  coast  quite  thoroughly  and  was  the  first 
to  circumnavigate  it.  He  built  a  house  on  the  shore  of 
Skjalfandifjordr,  the  present  cite  of  H usavik,  "house-by- 
the-creek."  Hoping  to  affix  his  name  to  the  country, 
he  rechristened  it  Gardar's  Holm.  On  his  return  to 
the  Hebrides  he  gave  an  enthusiastic  account  of  his  voy- 
age and  discoveries. 

This  story  so  influenced  Floki  Vilgerdarson,  a  famous 
old  Viking,  that  he  resolved  at  once  to  settle  in  the  new 


1 8  ICELAND 

country.  Floki,  trusting  to  the  flight  of  ravens,  took 
three  of  these  sable  birds  of  omen  as  his  pilots.  When 
a  little  beyond  the  Faroe  Islands,  he  liberated  one  bird 
which  immediately  returned  to  the  land.  Some  days 
later  a  second  was  set  free,  whereupon  it  arose,  circled 
about  the  ship  and  returned  to  its  cage.  Later  the 
third  was  liberated.  This  bird  flew  to  the  northwest, 
and  piloted  Floki  to  Iceland.  On  entering  a  great  bay, 
bounded  on  the  right  by  a  lofty  mountain  and  on  the 
left  by  a  rugged  promontory,  Faxa,  one  of  his  com- 
panions, called  the  attention  of  Floki  to  the  fact  that 
such  prominent  physical  features  must  mark  a  land  of 
vast  expansion  and  enormous  riches.  So  flattered  was 
Floki  that  the  bay  was  immediately  christened  Fax- 
afjordr,  its  present  name.  A  colony  was  founded  on 
a  small  inlet  which  in  honor  of  their  feathered  pilot 
was  named  Hrafnarfjordr,  "Raven's  fiord."  Proper 
precaution  was  not  taken  for  the  severe  winter  that  fol- 
lowed, and  during  the  second  year  the  few  survivors  re- 
turned to  Faroe  in  disgust  and  gave  to  this  inhospitable 
land  the  chilly  name  of  Iceland. 

Among  the  first  of  the  high-born  Jarls  of  Norway  to 
leave  his  native  land  was  Ingolfr  Arnarson,  accom- 
pained  by  his  foster  brother,  Hjorleifr.  Many  of  his 
friends  had  gone  to  ravage  France,  others  went  to  Eng- 
land, where  Alfred  was  beginning  his  eventful  reign  and 
still  others  remained  in  Norway  to  await  the  reports 
from  Ingolfr  in  Iceland.  This  was  in  874,  and  recall- 
ing accounts  of  Gardar,  they  set  sail  with  high  hopes. 
Ingolfr  took  with  him  the  pillars  of  the  high  seat  of 
his  ancestral  hall  and  when  he  came  in  sight  of  the 
icy  domes  of  the  Oraefa  Jokull  he  cast  the  pillars  into 
the  sea  and  vowed  that  upon  whatever  coast  they 
drifted,  there  would  be  found  his  colony.  How  many 
a  traveller  in  modern  days  has  sailed  those  same  waters 
with  the  story  of  Ingolfr  fresh  in  mind  and  gazed  up  to 


HISTORICAL  19 

these  towering  cliffs,  crowned  with  pristine  ice  and  dec- 
orated with  countless  waterfalls  glittering  in  the  Arctic 
sun ! 

A  violent  storm  arose  which  separated  him  from 
his  sacred  relics  and  forced  him  to  land  upon  a  long, 
steep  headland  just  under  the  Oraefa.  To  this  day  the 
promontory  bears  the  name  of  IngolfshofSi.  A  still 
bolder  headland  about  seventy  miles  to  the  west  bears 
the  name  of  his  kinsman,  HjorleifshofSi.  Hjorleifr 
was  not  only  a  sea-rover,  a  Viking,  but  he  disdained  to 
worship  the  gods  of  his  race.  He  set  his  Irish  slaves 
to  tilling  the  land.  They  slew  him  and  fled  to  the  ad- 
jacent islands,  since  called  V  estmannaeyjar ,  or  the 
"Westmen  Isles,"  for  the  Irish  were  then  known  as  the 
Westmen. 

Ingolfr  pursued  the  slaves  and  slew  them  all.  With 
the  fate  of  his  brother  in  mind,  who  had  refused  to 
honor  the  gods,  Ingolfr  searched  vigorously  for  his 
drifted  pillars  and  after  three  years  found  them  on 
a  lava-strewn  fiord  towards  the  west.  A  stream  ran 
down  into  the  channed  from  a  boiling  spring,  the  steam 
of  which  was  visible  for  some  distance.  Here  Ingolfr, 
true  to  his  vow,  established  his  colony  and  called  it 
Reykjavik,  "Smoking  Creek."  One  of  his  followers 
complained  of  the  location  as  follows, — 

'111  we  did  in  passing  the  good  lands  to  settle  on 
this  promontory." 

Many  people  have  since  agreed  with  him  that 
Reykjavik  was  an  unfortunate  place  for  a  settlement 
and  a  capital.  Destiny  has  proved  too  strong  for  rea- 
son. 

Following  these  pioneers,  came  a  steady  stream  of 
chiefs  and  thralls  until  an  event  in  Norway  changed  the 
even  flow  of  emigration  into  a  mad  rush  for  the  new 
lands  in  the  lonely  ocean.  Among  the  sea-wolves  whose 
lair  was  in  the  Shetlands  and  the  Orkneys  were  many 


20  ICELAND 

Vikings  who  were  not  content  to  ravage  England, 
France  and  more  distant  shores,  but  they  turned  to  Nor- 
way to  vent  their  spite  upon  the  hated  Harald.  The 
old  fire  was  not  quenched  in  the  blood  of  Norway's 
King.  In  880  he  came  with  a  great  host,  bearing  fire 
and  sword,  determined  to  utterly  rout  the  Vikings  and 
all  their  followers  from  their  island  fastnesses.  He 
followed  his  foes  into  creek  and  over  cliff,  wherever 
sailor  could  go  or  landsman  climb,  from  Orkney  south 
to  the  Isle  of  Man  he  put  them  utterly  to  rout  and 
freed  forever  his  native  lands  from  the  pirates  west- 
over-the-sea. 

There  was  but  one  place  left  in  the  then  known  world, 
whence  these  liberty-loving,  wild  and  dauntless  men, 
driven  from  their  haunts,  could  go.  Harald  had 
taught  the  lesson  most  thoroughly;  his  foes  were  too 
weak  to  cope  with  him  longer.  This  was  also  a  bless- 
ing to  the  struggling  Saxon  kingdoms  in  England. 
Thus  the  Vikings  fled  to  the  fire-born  island  in  the  north 
Atlantic,  with  many  a  southern  kinsman  and  many  an 
Irish  bride. 

Auth,  daughter  of  Kettil  the  Flatnose,  the  queen  of 
Olaf  the  White,  King  of  Dublin,  went  to  Iceland  in 
889,  as  related  in  the  Erybyggja  Saga.  She  was  a  woman 
of  considerable  wealth  and  a  Christian.  With  her 
sister  Thorun,  she  settled  in  Hvamn.  If  we  accept  the 
account  of  Dicuilus,  an  Irish  monk  who  wrote  in  829 
that  some  of  his  Culdee  brethren,  whom  the  Vikings 
called  "Papar,"  visited  Iceland  to  secure  retirement  like 
other  anchorites,  these  two  women  were  the  first  fol- 
lowers of  the  Cross  in  the  country.  In  890  the  women 
moved  from  the  BreiSifjordr  to  Eyjafjordr.  In  1890 
the  Icelanders  celebrated  the  thousandth  anniversary 
of  the  landing  of  the  first  Christians. 

We  are  apt  to  picture  the  Viking  as  a  rover  of  the 
sea,  making  his  war-ship  fast  to  that  of  his  enemy  and 


HISTORICAL  21 

dealing  skull-splitting  strokes  in  a  mighty  melee,  where 
the  shouts  of  the  victor  rose  high  above  the  clash  and 
clang  of  spear  and  battle-axe  upon  shield  and  helmet. 
War  was  not  his  occupation  nor  was  the  sea  his  home. 
When  he  wearied  of  the  pastoral  life  he  turned  to  the 
sea  for  plunder,  excitement  and  recreation.  His  wander- 
ings were  usually  of  three  years'  duration.  As  he  re- 
turns from  the  southern  isles  or  the  Mediterranean  his 
galley  laden  to  the  water's  edge  with  spoil,  let  us  view 
him  in  his  real  home. 

The  long  ship  is  beached  in  a  sheltered  cove.  On 
the  green  slope  reaching  upwards  from  the  shore, 
stands  his  dwelling  and  around  it  is  the  tun  or  home 
field  enclosed  with  a  turf  covered  lava  wall  just  as  one 
may  see  it  to-day  in  the  rural  districts  of  Iceland.  If 
our  Viking  is  a  man  of  wealth  and  influence  he  possess- 
es many  thralls  and  owns  a  grand  hall  and  possibly 
a  temple.  In  the  center  of  the  hall  a  row  of  fires  flings 
out  a  generous  warmth  while  the  smoke  circles  up- 
wards, glaring  and  spark-sprinkled,  through  the  holes 
in  the  roof.  In  the  center  of  the  long  wall  is  the 
high  seat  or  place  of  honor,  its  lofty  pillars  deeply 
carved  and  crowned  with  images  of  Thor,  Odin  and 
Frigga.  Upon  the  cushioned  seat  sits  the  returning 
hero,  his  garments  bound  with  plates  of  gold  and  his 
sword,  uFire-of-the-Sea-King,"  in  a  jewelled  scab- 
bard by  his  side.  A  collar  of  engraved  gold  encircles 
his  neck  and  his  cloak  is  edged  with  cloth  of  gold.  On 
a  raised  seat  at  one  end  of  the  hall  sits  his  wife  sur- 
rounded by  her  servants,  her  white  head  dress  held 
with  a  coronet  of  gold  mingles  with  her  flowing  hair 
falling  freely  upon  her  shoulders  and  over  her  cloak 
of  royal  blue.  Her  crimson  gown  from  the  far  East 
is  girdled  with  golden  ornaments  and  from  her  wrist 
hang  her  keys  and  well  filled  purse. 

Long  rows  of  benches  are  occupied  with  friends  and 


22  ICELAND 

kinsmen  who  have  come  to  the  feast  to  welcome  the 
returning  hero,  who  is  giving  a  great  banquet  in  celebra- 
tion of  his  victories  and  his  safe  return.  The  walls, 
deeply  carved  with  the  stories  of  many  conflicts  in  the 
southern  waters,  are  hung  with  trophies,  shields  and 
weapons.  The  dancing  firelight  plays  upon  their  burn- 
ished surfaces.  In  the  fitful  light  the  house  carles  glide 
about,  bearing  to  the  benches  huge  joints  of  roasted  beef 
and  horse-flesh  and  replenishing  the  stoups  with  spark- 
ling mead.  During  the  feast  the  scald  relates  in  im- 
promptu chant  with  many  a  jest  the  story  of  the  ex- 
ploits of  the  hero. 

"Toil-mighty  leader  ruled 
Westward  the  most  of  war-hosts; 
Sea's  mare  sped  'neath  the  lord  king 
Unto  the   English  lea-land. 
The  fight-glad  king  let  keel  rest, 
And  winter-long  there  bided ; 
No  better  king  there  strideth 
From  out  of  Vimur's  falcon." 

Translation  of  Wm.  Morris. 

The  story  of  the  life  of  the  early  Icelander  is  well 
told  in  the  introduction  of  the  Burnt  Njal  by  Sir  George 
W.  Dasent  from  which  I  quote  the  following: — 

"From  the  cradle  to  the  tomb  the  life  of  the  Icelandic 
chief  fetters  our  attention  by  its  poetry  of  will  and 
passion,  by  its  fierce,  untamed  energy,  by  its  patient  en- 
durance, by  its  undaunted  heroism.  In  Iceland  in  the 
tenth  century  it  was  only  healthy  children  that  were 
allowed  to  live.  As  soon  as  it  was  born  the  infant  was 
laid  upon  the  bare  ground,  until  the  father  came  and 
looked  at  it,  heard  and  saw  that  it  was  strong  in  lung 
and  limb,  its  fate  hung  in  the  balance.  That  clanger 
over,  it  was  duly  washed,  signed  with  the  Thunderer's 
holy  hammer,  the  symbol  of  all  manliness  and  strength, 
and  solemnly  received  into  the  family  as  the  faithful 


HISTORICAL  23 

champion  of  the  ancient  gods.  After  the  child  was 
named,  he  was  often  put  out  to  foster  with  some  neigh- 
bor, and  there  he  grew  up  with  the  children  of  the  house, 
and  contracted  those  friendships  and  affections  which 
were  reckoned  more  binding  than  the  ties  of  blood.  A 
man  was  of  age  as  soon  as  he  was  fit  to  do  a  man's 
work,  as  soon  as  he  could  brandish  his  father's  sword 
and  bend  his  bow." 

"But  for  incapacity  that  age  had  no  mercy.  Society 
required  an  earnest  and  pledge  from  the  man  himself 
that  he  was  worth  something." 

"Place,  King!"  cries  a  new  guest  to  a  king  of  Nor- 
way. 

"Place?  Find  a  place  for  yourself!  Turn  out  one  of 
my  thanes,  if  you  can.  If  you  can  not,  you  must  sit 
on  the  footstool." 

"And  so  these  savages  spread  themselves  over  the 
world  to  prove  their  natural  nobility.  In  Byzantium 
they  are  the  leaders  of  the  Greek  Emperor's  body 
guard.  From  France  they  tear  away  her  fairest  prov- 
inces. In  England  they  are  bosom  friends  of  such 
kings  as  Athelstane,  and  the  sworn  foes  of  Ethelred  the 
Unready.  From  Iceland  as  a  base  they  push  on  to 
Greenland,  and  colonize  it;  nay,  they  discover  America 
in  those  half-decked  barks." 

"All  this  they  do  in  the  firm  faith  that  the  eyes  of 
the  gods  are  upon  them.  Theirs  was,  in  truth,  a  simple 
creed;  to  do  something  and  to  do  it  well,  so  that  it 
might  last  as  long  as  the  world  lasted.  They  were 
superstitious,  that  is,  they  believed  in  a  false  religion ; 
but  then  they  believed  in  it,  which  is  more  than  all 
the  professors  of  the  true  religion  can  say.  They  were 
proud;  but  humility  is  a  plant  of  Christian  soil.  They 
believed  in  luck;  this,  too,  is  a  belief  which  a  more 
enlightened  age  has  hardly  shaken  off.  They  were 
revengeful;  but  revenge  was  the  most  sacred  duty  of  a 


24  ICELAND 

society,  which  knew  no  voice  more  awful  and  impres- 
sive than  that  of  a  brother's  blood  calling  from  the 
earth." 

"Nor  let  it  be  supposed  that  beneath  these  tall  trees 
of  the  forest,  growth  of  emotions  did  not  thrive,  which 
are  the  crown  and  joy  of  everyday  life." 

"  'Weep  not  for  me,'  says  the  dying  warrior  to  his 
wife,  'lest  those  hot  tears  should  scald  my  bosom  and 
spoil  my  rest.'  " 

"  'I  was  given  young  to  my  husband,'  says  a  faithful 
wife,  'and  then  I  promised  to  live  and  die  with  him/ 
and  this  she  sings  when  the  house  is  blazing  over  their 
heads,  and  the  foes  that  surround  it  offer  to  let  her 
escape." 

"The  Icelanders  were  the  bravest  warriors,  the  bold- 
est sailors,  and  the  most  obstinate  heathen;  but  they 
were  the  best  husbands,  the  tenderest  fathers,  and  the 
firmest  friends  of  their  day." 

Steadily  the  stream  of  the  Northmen  poured  into 
Iceland  until  in  sixty  years  from  the  coming  of  Ingolfr 
the  population  numbered  over  sixty  thousand.  So 
much  land  was  taken  by  the  first-comers  that  an  agree- 
ment was  made  by  which  all  those  who  came  later  could 
take  only  as  much  land  as  they  could  encompass  by  fire 
in  a  day.  This  was  done  by  building  a  huge  fire  in  the 
center  of  the  location,  whence  the  claimant  travelled  in 
a  circle  as  far  away  from  the  fire  as  he  could  see  the 
smoke. 

They  brought  with  them  the  customs  of  Norway  and 
its  worship  of  the  northern  gods.  Neighbors  gathered 
in  the  husthing,  the  freeholders  in  the  mothing  and  the 
nation  in  the  althing.  While  great  reverence  was  paid 
to  their  gods,  who  were  high  ideals  of  what  the  people 
aimed  to  become,  yet  their  system  reveals  the  presence 
of  an  unknown  god,  indistinct,  shadowy  and  undefined, 
before  whom  even  Odin,   father  of  the  gods,  himself 


HISTORICAL  25 

must  bow.  After  the  diversified  life  of  agriculture  and 
pillage  was  over,  when  the  last  feast  had  been  given 
and  the  last  war-cry  uttered,  after  Valhalla  had  received 
the  hero,  there  was  still  a  lingering  suspicion  of  some- 
thing yet  beyond. 

Christianity  was  forced  upon  the  Norwegians  by 
Olaf  Tryggvason  and  Olaf  the  Holy.  During  the  rule 
of  the  former,  Thangbrand  preached  "Christ's  law" 
in  Iceland  among  the  Eastfirthers,  and  in  the  Burnt  Njdl 
in  this  connection  we  read : — 

"Hall  let  himself  be  christened  and  all  his  household 
and  many  other  chieftans  also;  notwithstanding  there 
were  many  more  who  gainsaid  him.  Thangbrand  abode 
three  winters  in  Iceland  and  was  the  bane  of  three  men 
or  ever  he  departed  thence." 

When  Icelanders  journeyed  to  Norway,  Olaf  gave 
them  their  choice  between  taking  christening  or  im- 
prisonment. Among  the  prisoners  were  Hjallti  and 
Gizur  the  White,  the  latter  a  prominent  character  in  the 
Burnt  Njdl.  They  agreed  to  go  to  Iceland  and  preach 
the  new  faith  if  Olaf  would  release  the  prisoners.  In 
the  year  1000  they  went  to  the  Althing  at  Thingvellir. 
During  a  stormy  debate  a  runner  came  from  the  Olfusd 
stating  that  a  stream  of  lava  was  overflowing  the  home- 
steads.    The  heathen  men  cried  out, — 

"No  wonder  that  the  gods  are  wroth  at  such  speakers 
as  we  have  heard!" 

Then  Snorri  the  priest  said, — 

"At  what  then  were  the  gods  wroth  when  this  lava 
was  molten  and  ran  over  the  spot  on  which  we  now 
stand?" 

They  could  not  answer  him. 

The  following  law  was  then  passed, — 

"This  is  the  beginning  of  our  laws;  that  all  men 
shall  be  Christian  here  in  the  land,  and  believe  in  one 
God,  the  Father,  the  Son  and  the  Holy  Ghost,  but  leave 


26  ICELAND 

off  all  idol-worship,  not  expose  children  to  perish,  and 
not  eat  horseflesh.  It  shall  be  outlawry  if  such  things 
are  proved  openly  against  any  man;  but  if  these  things 
are  done  by  stealth,  then  it  shall  be  blameless." 

The  last  clause  of  this  law  disappeared  in  a  short 
time  and  shows  the  growing  hold  of  the  new  faith  upon 
the  heathen.  At  first,  it  was  a  difficult  task  to  induce 
the  Icelander  to  be  baptized.  The  difficulty  was  re- 
moved by  the  agreement  that  the  warm  springs  should 
be  used  as  fonts.  We  may  infer  from  this  incident  that 
the  rite  as  administered  by  King  Olaf  and  his  followers 
was  that  of  immersion.  A  few  churches  were  built  and 
we  read  that  Snorri  the  priest  erected  one  at  Holy  fell. 
Says  the  Eyrbyggja  Saga, — 

"This  whetted  men  much  to  the  building  of  churches, 
that  it  was  promised  them  by  the  teachers  that  a  man 
should  have  welcome  place  for  as  many  men  in  the  King- 
dom of  Heaven  as  might  stand  in  any  church  that  he 
let  build." 

We  do  not  see  in  this  the  softening  influences  of  the 
Christ-life,  forgiveness  and  salvation;  it  is  rather  the 
mediaeval  conquest  of  the  Church,  which  satisfied  it- 
self with  the  symbol  of  the  cross  and  the  rite  of  holy 
water.  Christianity  in  this  form  was  powerless  to 
subdue  the  stirring  passions  of  alienated  families,  who 
had  long  been  trained  to  pay  homage  to  such  a  god  as 
Odin  and  to  whom  the  blood-feud  was  just  as  sacred  as 
the  cross.  Thus  we  see  the  spears  and  battle  axes, 
blazoned  with  the  emblem  of  Christianity,  returning 
from  foreign  conquests  to  stain  themselves  anew  in 
homicidal  strife.  This  very  strife  gave  birth  to  Ice- 
landic letters. 

During  the  long  winter  nights  the  nobles  ga\  e  length- 
ened banquets  in  their  halls  as  their  ancestors  hnd  afore- 
time done  in  Scandinavia.  During  the  progress  of  the 
feast  the  scalds  recounted  the  heroic  deeds  of  their  mas- 


HISTORICAL  27 

ters.  In  the  fitful  glare  of  the  firelight  the  joyous  mead- 
bowl  circled  and  dissolved  in  song  and  cheer  the  stern- 
ness of  the  north.  Here  were  fought  again  the  terrible 
Heath  Slayings.  Here  were  recounted  the  deeds  of 
Howard  the  Halt,  the  quarrels  of  the  Ere-Dwellers  and 
the  stirring  scenes  of  the  Water  Dale.  The  returning 
Viking  related  his  exploits  in  distant  and  fairer  lands. 
The  legends  and  folk-lore,  through  repetition,  were 
clothed  with  choicer  phrasing.  These  are  vivid  pictures 
of  the  ancient  days,  simple,  straightforward  tales  that 
bear  the  stamp  of  truth  and  reveal  the  germ  of  a 
splendid  dramatic  power. 

With  the  introduction  of  Christianity  came  the  use 
of  letters.  The  scalds  and  story  tellers  hastened  to 
avail  themselves  of  this  method  to  place  in  rhyme  and 
prose  the  idyls,  the  mythology  and  the  history  of  the 
race.  Every  strong  and  original  race  has  vented  its 
emotions  in  literature.  The  Iliad  and  Odyssey  express 
the  life  of  the  plastic  period  of  the  Greek;  the  Aeneid 
does  the  same  for  the  Roman.  Through  the  force  ot 
the  example  set  us  by  our  schools,  we  turn  to  the  study 
of  Greek  and  Latin,  forgetful  of  our  own  rich  expres- 
sion of  the  past  or  ignorant  of  its  existence.  Our  early 
tongue  had  its  great  epics.  Presumption,  it  may  be,  to 
compare  them  with  the  Iliad,  but  of  great  merit  never- 
theless. Its  chronicles  were  replete  with  the  doings  of 
the  people.  This  literature  possesses  a  mythology  that, 
in  its  purity  and  noble  sentiments,  in  its  heroism  and 
spiritual  aspirations,  was  never  equalled. 

Thus  came  into  existence  the  Eddas  and  Sagas.  Mr. 
York  Powell  says  that  the  earliest  poets  were  a  mix- 
ture of  Norwegian  and  Irish.     And  Howell  adds, — 

"Hence  the  Keltic  grace  that  softened  down  the 
Gothic  strength."  The  Eddas  relate  the  earliest  my- 
thology, the  ancient  Scandinavian  religion.  The  first 
Eddas  were  written  by  Saemundr  the  Wise  in  poetic 


28  ICELAND 

form  and  the  later  Eddas  were  put  into  beautiful  prose 
by  Snorri  Sturlason  at  Reykholt.  The  Landnamabok,  the 
doomsday  book  of  Iceland,  was  written  by  several  hands 
but  chiefly  by  Ari  the  Wise.  The  names  and  homes 
of  all  the  early  settlers  are  given.  Snorri  Sturlason  also 
wrote  the  Heimskringla,  "round  world."  In  it  we  read 
not  only  the  history  of  Iceland  from  the  beginning  but 
of  Norway,  Sweden,  Denmark,  Ireland  and  England. 
The  list  of  Sagas  is  long  and  each  has  a  special  interest. 
First  of  all  is  the  Njdla,  so  beautifully  translated  by 
Dr.  George  Dasent,  of  which  he  says, — 

"It  bears  away  the  palm  for  truthfulness  and  beauty." 

In  the  middle  of  the  eleventh  century  the  Icelandic 
feuds  had  reached  the  point  where  all  the  great  families 
were  weary  of  bloodshed  and  in  the  year  1262  they 
surrendered  their  freedom  to  Hakon,  King  of  Norway. 
The  people  still  held  their  own  laws  and  met  as  custom- 
ary at  the  Althing.    Says  Howell, — 

"But  with  the  freedom  passed  the  fruits  of  an  heroic 
age.  The  stream  of  spoil  from  foreign  lands  had 
ceased  to  flow.  The  curb  upon  the  chieftain  checked 
the  scald;  copying  took  the  place  of  writing,  and  then 
the  land  began  to  live  upon  the  memories  of  the  past." 

The  century  before  the  Reformation  was  one  of  sad- 
ness, poverty  and  misery  for  Iceland.  In  1360  Den- 
mark took  possession  of  Norway  and  Iceland.  In  1420 
the  Black  Death  visited  the  little  nation  and  took  for 
toll  two  thirds  of  its  population.  In  the  fourteenth 
century  the  Reformation  which  was  sweeping  Europe 
reached  Iceland,  the  gospel  was  given  to  the  people  and 
in  1584  the  first  complete  Bible  was  produced  in  Ice- 
landic by  Bishop  Guthbrandr  Thorlaksson.  With  the 
reformation,  also  came  a  revival  of  letters.  In  1602 
Denmark  gave  to  a  Copenhagen  company  a  monopoly 
of  all  Icelandic  trade.  This  wrought  an  evil  that  was 
not  remedied  until  1874,  the  effects  of  which  are  still 


HISTORICAL  29 

experienced  by  the  people.  In  the  seventeenth  century, 
pirates  from  England,  France  and  Barbary  wrought 
great  havoc  upon  the  unprotected  coasts  and  carried 
away  hundreds  of  captives.  Calamities  came  rapidly. 
In  1707  the  small  pox  claimed  a  toll  of  eighteen  thou- 
sand people.  Fifty  years  later  half  a  million  sheep  and 
nearly  all  the  cattle  died  of  pestilence  and  as  a  result 
famine  stalked  throughout  the  land.  In  1783  a  vol- 
canic eruption  destroyed  thirteen  hundred  people,  many 
cattle,  twenty  thousand  horses  and  one  hundred  and 
thirty  thousand  sheep.  The  heroic  nation  had  reached 
the  limit  of  its  endurance  and  Denmark  relented.  In 
1800  the  Althing  which  had  met  in  the  sunken  plain  of 
Thingvellir  for  over  nine  hundred  years  left  the  Log- 
berg  to  history  and  removed  to  Reykjavik  to  sit  beneath 
a  roof.  Then  arose  the  Icelandic  patriot,  Jon  SigurSs- 
son,  and  through  his  labors  Iceland  received  from  the 
hands  of  the  King  of  Denmark,  at  the  celebration  of 
its  one  thousandth  anniversary,  its  constitution  and  its 
practical  freedom. 


3o  ICELAND 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

The  data  for  the  preceding  chapter  have  been  drawn  from  the  fol- 
lowing works.  To  their  authors,  dead  as  well  as  living,  the  writer 
is  pleased   to   make   acknowledgment. 

HEIMSKRINGLA,  Snorri  Sturlason,  Trans,  by  William  Morris 
and  Eirikr  Magnusson.  This  is  in  six  volumes,  published  in  London 
in  1895.    Rare. 

BURNT  NJAL,  translated  by  Sir  George  W.  Dasent,  Edinburgh, 
1861,  two  volumes.  The  Introduction  is  especially  recommended.  It 
has  long  been  out  of  print  but  Grant  Richards,  London,  in  1900,  pub- 
lished the  translation  but  with  a  great  abridgement  of  the  classical 
Introduction. 

JOURNAL  OF  A  RESIDENCE  IN  ICELAND.  Henderson,  dur- 
ing 1814  and  1815,  Edinburgh,  1819.  This  work  is  a  classic  but  very 
rare. 

BY  FELL  AND  FIORD,  E.  J.  Oswald,  Edinburgh,  1882.  Valu- 
able for  the  Saga  data.    Out  of  print. 

ICELAND  PICTURES,  IV.  W.  Howell,  F.  R.  G.  S.,  London, 
William  Clowes  and  Sons.  The  first  chapter,  The  Exodus  of  the 
Vikings.     Out  of  print. 

THE  FAROES  AND  ICELAND,  Nelson  Annandalc,  Oxford, 
1905,  largely  scientific.  The  characterization  of  the  Icelanders  does 
not  accord  with  mv  experience. 

SUMMER  TRAVELLING  IN  ICELAND,  John  Coles,  F.  R.  G. 
S.,  London,  1882,  a  personal  narrative.     Out  of  print. 

ICELAND,  Routes  Over  the  Highlands,  Daniel  Bruun,  Reykjavik, 
1907. 

HANDBOOK  TO  ICELAND,  for  Sportsmen  and  Tourists,  Geo. 
V.  Turnbull,  Leith,  1906. 

ICELAND,  A  Handbook  for  Travellers,  Stefan  Stefanson,  Reyk- 
javik, 191 1. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE    LURE 

"Oh  Frey  in  the  north  lands, 

Thou  sweetest  of  powers, 
Thy  breath  on  the  mountains 

Turns  ice  into  flowers. 
Thy  smile  on  the  meadows 

Is  life  to  the  fold, 
Thy  touch  on  the  maid's  hair 

Turns  flaxen  to  gold." 

— Anon. 

WHY  do  you  choose  Iceland  for  a  vacation? 
I  would  go  to  a  more  interesting  place,  if 
I  were  you. 
This  question  has  been  asked  so  many 
times  and  similar  comments  have  followed  so  often  be- 
fore I  could  answer  the  question  that  I  write  my  answer 
here,  as  an  inducement  to  you,  who  can  not  take  the 
long  journey  with  me  literally,  to  follow  me  in  imagina- 
tion through  these  pages  and  live  with  me  for  a  few 
brief  hours  in  that  far  off  land  of  fascination. 

The  people  interest  me.  The  country  was  settled, 
not  by  serf  nor  servant.  The  grand  old  warriors  of  the 
viking  period,  who  overran  in  quick  succession  the 
British  Isles,  ravaged  the  coast  of  France,  swept  through 
the  Mediterranean  and  even  penetrated  to  Constanti- 
nople, and  wherever  they  went  subdued  and  triumphed, 
— these  are  the  men  who,  once  the  lords  and  petty 
kings  of  ancient  Norway,  scorning  to  bend  the  knee 
to  Harald,  chose  unknown  dangers  in  a  strange  and 
distant  land,  and  going  there  sat  down  amidst  the  frosts 
and  volcanoes  of  Iceland  to  relate  the  story  of  their 
deeds.  From  this  virile  race  are  the  modern  Icelanders 
descended.     They  are  a  kindly,  honest  and  hospitable 

31 


32  ICELAND 

race;  kind  to  each  other  and  to  the  stranger  within 
their  borders,  hospitable  with  a  hospitality  which  is 
almost  unknown  in  our  selfish  race,  honest  beyond  all 
question. 

The  literature  fascinates  me.  The  language,  now 
dead  in  its  ancient  Norse  valleys,  is  a  living  speech  in 
Iceland.  Its  children  read  its  ancient  sagas,  centuries 
upon  centuries  old,  as  understandingly  as  their  weekly 
newspapers.  It  is  just  as  if  some  long  lost  island  of  the 
Aegian  still  held  in  all  its  ancient  purity  the  musical 
accent  of  the  Homeric  age,  or,  as  if  some  forgotten 
valley  in  the  Italian  Alps  resounded  with  the  rhetoric 
of  Cicero  or  vibrated  to  the  tunes  of  Horace. 

The  scenery,  the  geology,  has  a  charm  unknown  in 
other  lands.  It  is  a  country  fresh  from  the  crucible  of 
nature.  Here  one  views  a  continent  in  the  making,  be- 
holds the  mighty  upheavals  from  the  nether  abyss,  sees 
how  nature,  as  if  ashamed  of  her  rough  work,  planes 
with  her  league-long  blades  of  ice  the  basaltic  ridges 
and  glassy  peaks.  The  traveller  beholds  a  country  full 
of  lakes  and  rivers,  and  waterfalls  the  largest  in 
Europe,  but  a  country  without  any  system  of  moun- 
tain chains  and  drainage  to  conform  to  the  laws  laid 
down  by  the  physiographer.  Mountains  there  are  in 
abundance  and  lofty  ones,  but  scattered  hither  and  yon 
at  the  strange  caprice  of  Pluto.  Rivers,  both  the  de- 
light and  the  vexation  of  the  traveller,  inspiring  in 
the  grandeur  and  unharnessed  freedom  of  their  mighty 
canyons,  vexing  when  they  obstruct  his  passage,  and  he 
must  lift  his  hat  in  trust  to  swim  their  white  currents 
or  else  forbare  the  distant  shore.  In  stern  defiance  of 
obstacles  the  traveller  journeys  through  a  roadless  coun- 
try where  a  thousand  years  since  the  progenitors  of  his 
diminutive  steed  first  bore  their  valiant  masters.  There 
are  miles  of  meadows  smiling  in  the  lengthened  summer 
day  and  freely  sprinkled  with  a  rich  and  beautiful  flora; 


THE  LURE  33 

there  are  quaking  bogs  to  cross  and  quicksands,  where 
the  judgment  of  his  pony  surpasses  his  rider's  wisdom; 
there  are  wastes  of  wind  driven  sand  without  a  scrap  of 
vegetation  to  enliven  the  scene;  there  are  mountain 
ranges  to  be  crossed,  perhaps  where  no  one  ever  pressed 
the  lava;  there  are  beautiful  valleys,  rich  with  flocks  and 
herds  and  alive  with  horses;  there  are  areas  of  smoking 
lands,  ill-smelling  and  sizzling  fumaroles,  boiling  springs 
and  blue-black  mud  cauldrons  which  vomit  their  horrid 
contents  with  a  sickening  gasp;  lakes  and  ponds  innum- 
erable, where  live  unmolested  a  myraid  waterfowl, 
where  flowers  bloom  in  a  profusion  often  rare  in  more 
southern  climes. 

The  homes  arc  simple,  humble  and  pastoral.  An 
ancient  house  of  turf  and  stone,  an  enclosed  mowing 
patch,  the  sheep  folds  and  the  byre,  a  scanty  garden 
where  a  few  hardy  vegetables  rejoice  in  the  long,  long 
day.  Even  the  endless  day  has  its  charm,  the  nearly 
continuous  sunshine  and  the  fleecy  clouds  in  the  bluest 
of  blue  skies,  the  lights  and  shadows  on  lake  and  moun- 
tain, the  extreme  clearness  of  the  atmosphere,  clear  to 
the  point  of  great  deception  to  the  inexperienced, — 
the  colors,  I  did  not  forget  them,  nor  will  one  having 
seen  the  richest  of  nature's  colors  in  these  grand  old 
volcanic  piles  with  streaks  of  emerald  and  patches  of 
brown,  gray,  yellow,  red  and  crimson  all  washed  and 
blended  with  the  fan-like  brush  of  melting  snow,  ever 
forget. 

Why  do  I  go  to  Iceland?  Because  the  people  appeal, 
the  old  stories  of  heroic  deeds  stir  the  sluggish  blood  of 
city  life,  and  the  thought  of  being  foot-loose  and  care- 
free throughout  its  lingering  summer  day  to  roam  at 
will  its  mountain  vales  and  smiling  meadows  impells  me. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  WAY 

"Here  rise  no  groves,  and  here  no  gardens  blow, 
Here  even  the  hardy  heath  scarce  dares  to  grow ; 
But  rocks  on  rocks,  in  mist  and  storm  arrayed, 
Stretch  far  to  sea  their  giant  colonade, 
With  many  a  cavern  seamed,     *    *    *." 

— Scott. 

ICELAND  is  an  island  in  the  north  Atlantic  just 
east  of  Greenland.  There  is  no  boat  service  be- 
tween it  and  America.  The  American  must  em- 
bark either  from  Copenhagen  or  from  Leith.  The 
Copenhagen  boats,  the  mail  boats  of  Det  Forenede 
Dampskibs-Selskab ,  always  call  at  Leith  and  it  is  by  this 
line  and  from  Leith  that  we  have  always  sailed  for 
Iceland. 

We  went  on  board  the  Laura  at  the  Albert  Dock 
in  the  afternoon  of  the  eighth  of  July  1909,  and 
steamed  out  through  the  Firth  of  Forth.  At  last,  after 
3000  miles  of  ocean  travel  we  were  en  route  for  Iceland. 
The  little  boat  was  crowded  to  overflowing  and  two 
English  ladies  slept  in  the  starboard  boat  as  it  hung 
from  the  davits.  Among  the  passengers  there  were 
eleven  different  nationalities.  The  Laura  looked  di- 
minutive compared  with  the  transatlantic  liner  from 
which  we  had  disembarked  but  three  days  previously. 
We  viewed  her  not  without  some  doubt  as  to  her  be- 
havior in  the  stormy  waters  of  the  north.  She  was 
an  ancient  boat,  one  could  tell  that  at  a  glance  as  well 
as  by  another  sense,  but  she  was  staunch.  When  the 
skipper  told  me  that  the  display  of  bunting  from  peak 
to  peak  was  in  commemoration  of  her  two  hundredth 
consecutive  trip  to  Iceland,  I  said  to  my  wife, — 

34 


THE  WAY  35 

"The  boat  is  all  right,  it  all  rests  with  the  skipper." 
This  proved  to  be  prophetic.  Captain  Aasberg  took  us 
safely  through  the  stormiest  passage  we  have  experi- 
enced in  these  waters  and  landed  us  all  safely  as  he  had 
done  with  so  many  passengers  previously.  On  the  return 
he  resigned  and  the  owners  turned  the  Laura  over  to  a 
new  skipper.  Whether  she  was  disobedient  to  her  new 
master  or  not,  I  can  not  say,  but  on  his  first  trip  she 
climbed  the  lava  ridges  north  of  Iceland  and  her  ribs 
are  still  grinding  in  the  sluiceways.  Better  a  frail  boat 
and  a  staunch  captain  than  the  converse. 

The  passage  northward  is  full  of  interest  with  such 
special  features  to  attract  the  attention  as, — the  ship- 
ping activity  of  Aberdeen  and  Peterhead,  the  North 
Sea  trawlers  and  the  herring  fleet,  the  smaller  fishing 
craft  venturing  shorter  distances  from  the  protection 
of  the  great  headlands,  the  grand  old  promontories  of 
the  Pentland  Firth  and  the  Skerries,  to  discuss  all  ot 
which  would  shorten  our  journey  in  Iceland. 

We  can  not  pass  the  Orkneys  without  a  word  of 
notice.  They  were  the  Isles-West-Over-the-Sea  of  the 
Vikings.  Here  they  fled  at  first  from  the  wrath  of 
Harald,  here  they  fitted  out  their  expeditions  for  all 
lands,  here  they  recuperated  and  quarrelled  with  them- 
selves and  the  mixed  race  of  the  mainland  of  Scotland. 
Here  was  written  that  great  Saga  of  the  northland,  the 
Orkneyinga  Saga,  a  stirring  tale  of  Harald,  the  Earls 
of  Orkney  and  of  Scotland.  Passing  Kirkwall,  the 
square  Norman  tower  of  its  ancient  cathedral  attracts 
the  eye.  Pleasing  is  the  crescent  city  on  the  quiet  bay. 
How  peaceful  and  how  changed  from  the  davs  of  the 
Vikings !  We  recall  that  this  is  the  center  of  the  action 
in  Scott's  Pirate,  that  fine  story  of  much  earlier  davs. 
On  yonder  cragg  Noma  of  the  Fitful  Head  uttered 
her  wild  incantations,  in  this  same  kirk  she  plotted  with 
the  mysterious  pirate  while  those  fair  fields  with  the 


36  ICELAND 

upland  flocks  are  the  same  as  in  the  days  of  Halco  and 
Magnus. 

The  Old  Man  of  Hoy  blends  with  the  cliffs  as  we 
pass,  the  famous  Naup  Head  sinks  into  the  sea  and  the 
Laura  in  a  smother  of  fog  and  drizzle  turns  con- 
fidently towards  Faroe.  Forty-six  hours  out  from  Leith 
the  Laura  found  her  old  anchorage  in  Thorshaven, 
the  capital  of  the  Faroe  Isles.  We  found  it  a  great 
relief  to  go  ashore  for  a  few  hours  to  visit  the  shops 
of  these  people.  The  place  and  the  people  are  worthy 
of  a  special  chapter  which  will  follow  this  one.  The 
passage  through  the  fiords  was  fortunately  made  in 
clear  weather  and  the  scenery  is  impressive. 

Lonely  and  grand  in  the  north  Atlantic  rise  the  storm- 
scarred  cliffs  of  Faroe.  They  are  the  stepping  stones 
to  Iceland  and  as  such  were  used  as  a  resting  place  by 
the  first  mariners  of  these  waters. 


CHAPTER  TV 

FAROE 

"And  still  the  eye  may  faint  resemblance  trace 
In  the  blue  eye,  tall   form,  proportion  fair, 
The  limbs  athletic,  and  the  long  light  hair, — 
(Such  was  the  mien,  as  Scald  and  Minstrel  sings, 
Of  fair-haired  Harold,  first  of  Norway's  Kings)  ; 
But  their  high  deeds  to  scale  these  crags  confined, 
Their  only  warfare  is  with  wave  and  wind." 

—Scott. 

CONSIDERING  the  latitude  and  its  isolation 
in  the  north  Atlantic,  the  climate  of  Faroe 
is  comparatively  mild.  Fierce  storms  from 
the  north  beat  down  upon  the  islands  and 
the  heavy  sea  often  surges  for  days  together  through 
these  narrow  channels  making  it  impossible  for  boats 
to  pass  from  shore  to  shore.  Even  in  calm  weather 
the  tide  currents  often  run  at  ten  knots  an  hour  so 
that  it  is  necessary  for  the  boatman  to  have  an  accurate 
knowledge  of  the  currents  in  order  to  make  progress. 
The  high  peaks  are  covered  with  snow  frequently 
throughout  the  summer,  but  snow  seldom  lingers  in  the 
valleys  over  a  fortnight  even  in  the  winter. 

The  temperature  is  low  in  summer  and  correspond- 
ingly high  in  winter.  Heavy  fogs  cover  the  islands  dur- 
ing the  greater  portion  of  the  year  and  a  perfectly  clear 
day  is  rare.  When  the  sun  breaks  through  the  mists, 
the  effect  of  the  shifting  clouds,  the  areas  of  snow  on 
the  upper  peaks  and  the  myriads  of  waterfalls  form  a 
magnificent  picture. 

Seventeen  of  the  islands  are  inhabited  with  a  popula- 
tion of  16,000  people.  The  largest  island  is  Stroma, 
Stream,  which  is  twenty-seven  miles  long.  The  capital, 
Thorshaven,    Harbor-of-Thor,    with    a    population    of 

37 


38  ICELAND 

8,000  people,  is  located  on  the  east  coast  of  Stromo. 
These  islands  belong  to  Denmark  and  have  two  rep- 
resentatives in  the  Danish  Parliament.  All  local  ai- 
fairs  are  conducted  in  the  Lag  thing,  Law-Assembly, 
at  Thorshaven.  The  people  are  exempt  from  conscrip- 
tion and  of  nearly  all  customs,  duties  and  taxes.  The 
members  of  the  Lagthing  are  chosen  by  ballot  for  a 
term  of  three  years.  The  President  is  appointed  by  the 
Danish  King  for  life.  The  local  taxes  are  collected  by 
native  sheriffs,  who  canvass  their  districts  four  times 
each  year.  The  sheriffs  also  have  charge  of  the  divi- 
sion and  distribution  of  the  captured  whales.  Lawyers 
are  resident  at  Thorshaven  and  at  no  other  place  in 
the  islands.  Criminal  and  civil  cases  are  tried  before 
a  judge  and  without  a  jury.  All  petty  cases  come  be- 
fore the  local  sheriff.  The  head  man  of  each  village 
enforces  the  sanitary  regulations  and  other  local  rules. 
There  are  no  policemen  in  the  islands  and  crime,  unless 
committed  by  foreign  sailors,  usually  Scotch  fishermen, 
is  extremely  rare.  The  Faroese  are  peaceable  and  sen- 
sitive of  any  scandal  if  it  passes  beyond  the  borders  of 
their  own  village.  It  is  the  duty  of  every  man  to  see  to 
it  that  the  law  is  maintained,  and  they  keep  a  careful 
watch  of  all  foreigners  when  on  shore. 

There  is  only  one  jail  in  the  islands  and  a  Faroeman 
smilingly  declared  to  me  that  it  was  for  the  sole  benefit 
of  the  Shetland  fishermen.  The  law  permits  a  prisoner 
to  diet  only  on  bread  and  water.  A  man  serving  a  sen- 
tence spends  three  days  in  jail  and  then  enjoys  three 
days  of  freedom  alternately  until  the  entire  term  of  the 
confinement  is  completed.  There  is  no  danger  of  his 
making  an  escape. 

In  Thorshaven  and  in  the  larger  villages  there  are 
schools.  There  is  also  a  Teacher's  College  in  the  capi- 
tal city.  The  people  have  local  option  in  educational 
matters   and   many   prefer   to   teach   their  children   at 


Cutting  up  If  'hale  Meat  at   Thorshavn. 


Heads  of  the  Bottle  Xose  Whale. 


J 


FAROE  39 

home.  If  it  is  voted  to  have  a  school  in  a  given  village, 
then  all  the  children  must  attend  it,  the  parents  must 
supply  a  teacher  and  provide  sufficient  pasturage  for 
one  cow  for  the  use  of  the  teacher,  but  the  government 
pays  the  meager  salary. 

The  results  of  their  home  education  are  excellent; 
the  children  study  for  the  sake  of  knowledge.  The 
most  simple  ones  have  a  good  knowledge  of  history 
and  geography.  The  law  requires  that  the  church  serv- 
ices, the  village  schools  and  the  proceedings  of  the 
Lagthing  be  conducted  in  Danish.  On  all  other  oc- 
casions the  Faroeman  uses  his  own  language.  They 
use  the  Danish  only  upon  compulsion.  There  is  a 
strong  anti-Danish  feeling  which  is  kept  alive  by  the 
supercilious  behavior  and  affected  superiority  of  the 
resident  Danes,  who,  however,  in  politeness,  integrity 
and  hospitality  are  inferior  to  the  Faroese.  The  Danes 
in  Faroe  are  not  to  be  confounded  by  the  reader  with 
the  Danes  resident  in  Denmark. 

The  people  are  stoutly  built,  with  fair  complexions, 
usually  handsome,  mostly  short  in  stature,  broad  should- 
ered and  rugged,  descendants  of  the  ancient  Norse  Vik- 
ings who  settled  in  Faroe  prior  to  the  settlement  of  Ice- 
land. They  have  kept  the  race  pure.  If  asked  his  nation- 
ality, the  Faroeman  proudly  replies, — "I  am  a  Faroe- 
man.  " 

The  men  have  a  national  costume,  which  is  shown  in 
the  frontispiece  of  this  volume.  This  suit  I  purchased 
of  Peter  Arge  in  Thorshaven.  I  asked  him  where  I 
could  obtain  one  of  these  suits  and  he  took  me  to  the 
little  bed  room  at  the  top  of  his  house  and  asked  me  to 
try  on  his  best  suit.  I  did  it  and  found  that  it  fitted 
closely,  and  so  it  was  in  style  in  Thorshaven.  He 
willingly  sold  it  saying  that  he  could  make  another  dur- 
ing the  winter  when  there  was  no  work.  A  brief  de- 
scription of  this  costume  is  not  out  of  place  at  this  point. 


4o  ICELAND 

It  consists  of  knickerbockers,  slashed  at  the  knee  and 
secured  with  four  silver  buttons  and  a  broad,  double- 
hinged  silver  buckle.  The  waistcoat  is  scarlet,  fastened 
with  six  silver  buttons.  A  continuous  spray  of  forget- 
me-nots,  daintily  worked  with  colored  silk,  extends 
down  each  edge  of  the  waistcoat  and  across  the  two 
diminutive  pockets.  A  tightly  fitting  jersey  of  home- 
spun, with  twenty-four  silver  buttons,  twelve  on  a  side, 
is  put  over  the  waistcoat  and  over  this,  in  cold  weather, 
is  worn  a  short  heavy  jacket  fastened  with  silver  buttons 
of  large  size.  This  is  used  much  as  we  use  an  overcoat. 
The  cap  is  of  closely  woven  material  in  fine  stripes  of  red 
and  blue;  it  has  no  visor,  is  cylindrical  in  shape  and 
gathered  at  the  top  in  the  form  of  a  rosette,  which  is 
pulled  down  on  the  right  hand  side  and  fastened  at  the 
edge  of  the  cap.  Thick,  homespun  stockings  of  soft 
wool  and  sheepskin  slippers, — or  sometimes  a  Danish 
shoe  with  silver  buckles, — fastened  around  the  ankles 
with  red  or  white  cord  complete  the  costume.  No, — 
the  Faroeman  is  not  fully  "dressed"  without  his  beauti- 
fully inlaid  knife  in  a  highly  ornamented  sheath  fast- 
ened to  his  belt  with  a  twisted  cord.  This  knife,  as 
well  as  scores  of  smiliar  knives  from  Faroe,  was  made 
by  Mr.  Arge,  who  is  expert  at  inlaying  shell,  silver  and 
wood.  The  suit  was  made  in  his  own  family  and  his 
daughter  embroidered  the  waistcoat.  The  Faroese 
women,  like  the  Icelandic  men,  have  no  national  cos- 
tume. 

The  people  are  very  seclusive.  Many  families  claim 
descent  from  the  ancient  Kings  of  Norway  and  Scot- 
land, and  will  marry  only  among  themselves.  They 
are  so  clannish  that  the  people  on  one  island  rarely 
marry  with  those  of  another  island.  To  illustrate, — 
A  woman  born  on  Stroma  married  a  man  from  Nalso. 
The  result  was  that  she  was  boycotted  by  all  the  Nalsu 
people.      Contrary  to  the  dogma   of  the  medical   fra- 


FAROE  41 

ternity  this  inbreeding  has  not  produced  extremely  ab- 
normal offspring.  Mental,  moral  and  physical  degen- 
eration has  not  resulted  from  this  long  series  of  close 
inbreeding. 

The  language  of  the  Faroese  must  be  classed  as  a 
dialect.  Although  having  the  same  origin  as  the  Ice- 
landic tongue,  it  differs  strongly  in  pronunication.  In 
the  Viking  days  the  same  speech  was  employed  in  Nor- 
way, Faroe  and  in  Iceland.  Icelandic  has  remained 
nearly  pure  but  Faroe,  being  in  close  contact  with  Shet- 
land, Orkney  and  with  the  numerous  fishermen,  its 
language  has  been  much  adulterated.  Faroe  has  its  Sa- 
gas as  well  as  Iceland,  Norway  and  Orkney,  but  there 
were  no  Sagamen  or  historians  as  in  Iceland.  The  mod- 
ern Faroese  dialect  has  been  written  less  than  eighty 
years.  The  ballads,  folklore  and  traditions  are  now  being 
reduced  to  writing  by  the  scholars  and  many  French, 
English,  Danish  and  Icelandic  works  have  been  trans- 
lated. 

The  Faroese  have  escaped  the  demoralizing  influ- 
ences of  the  continent  and  for  centuries  have  lived 
simply  and  quietly  along  the  lines  of  their  ancient  cus- 
toms. Their  hospitality  is  generous,  their  courtesy  to 
strangers  extensive,  their  inborn  honesty  is  perfect. 
The  people,  wrhen  not  engaged  in  fish  curing  or  in  whale 
dissection,  are  clean  and  their  homes  are  models  of 
tidiness.  Their  centuries  of  isolation  and  peaceful  liv- 
ing have  eradicated  every  trace  of  the  cruelty,  piracy 
and  murderous  tendencies  of  their  Viking  progenitors. 
They  have  some  vices, — what  nation  has  none  ?  They 
lack  originality,  their  ambition  and  energy  is  at  a  low 
ebb,  they  take  life  as  a  matter  of  fact  and  do  not 
worry.  They  surpass  all  other  people  in  their  love  of 
gossip  and  in  sarcasm.  There  is  a  lack  of  gaiety  and 
a  tendency  towards  melancholy.  If  climate  has  any  ef- 
fect upon  the  spirits  of  a  race,  surely  the  heavy  fogs, 


42  ICELAND 

that  hang  over  these  islands  for  weeks  and  saturate 
everything  with  chilling  moisture,  are  responsible  for 
the  melancholy.  The  long,  dark  winters,  the  continu- 
ous roar  of  ocean  through  these  ancient  fiords  is  also 
responsible  for  the  mental  cast  of  the  race.  But,  they 
have  a  peculiar  humor  and  are  fond  of  joking  each 
other.  This  is  a  trait  inherited  from  their  Viking  an- 
cestors and  this  trait  is  strong  in  Iceland.  The  people 
dislike  very  much  to  be  laughed  at  or  to  pose  as  objects 
of  curiosity  before  the  gaze  of  the  foreigner.  It  was 
with  the  greatest  difficulty  that  I  obtained  my  series  of 
one  hundred  photographs  of  these  people  and  their 
homes. 

Conservatism  is  their  prevailing  characteristic.  Some 
European  method  or  idea  may  be  better  than  their  own, 
but  they  cling  to  their  ancient  customs  as  their  bird 
catchers  to  the  cliffs.  They  build  their  houses  as  did 
their  grandfathers  because  their  grandfathers  con- 
structed their  dwellings  after  the  designs  of  more  re- 
mote generations.  Birch  bark  is  still  imported  from 
Norway  to  cover  the  drift-wood  rafters  and  over  this  is 
placed  a  layer  of  turf  where  the  grass  grows  through- 
out the  year  and  the  flowers  bloom  in  profusion  in  the 
long  summer.  The  ancient  wooden  weighing  beam, 
the  quaint  antique  iron  lamp  for  train  oil,  the  imple- 
ments of  the  forge,  the  fishing  tackle,  the  boats  and 
their  rigging, — all  are  constructed  according  to  an- 
cestral specifications.  Modern  ideas  are  scoffed  at,  the 
old  ways  are  the  best.  The  Faroese  are  happy  in  their 
own  seclusion  and  they  live  in  the  shadowy  paths  be- 
tween the  superstitions  of  ancient  Scandinavia  and  the 
vigorous,  pulsing  life  of  western  civilization.  They 
care  little  for  the  outside  world  and  its  problems.  A 
local  newspaper,  in  spite  of  the  submarine  cable,  gives 
only  a  fourth  of  a  column  to  news  of  the  outside  world; 
the   remainder   is   filled  with  gossip  which   every  one 


FAROE  43 

knew  before  the  sheet  issued  from  the  press. 

The  streets  of  Thorshaven  are  narrow,  uneven, 
crooked  and  crowded.  The  houses  are  built  mostly  of 
wood  on  high  stone  foundations,  the  walls  are  frequently 
coated  with  tar  and  in  the  summer  time  festoons  of 
fish  are  suspended  from  the  gables  to  dry.  Within  the 
home  everything  is  neat  and  clean,  the  Norway  spruce 
is  sanded,  colored  by  time  and  untarnished  with  paint 
and  has  become  a  beautiful  chestnut  brown. 

The  people  retain  some  of  their  ancient  superstitions 
and  believe  that  the  result  of  a  day's  fishing,  or  success 
in  bird-netting,  will  depend  upon  some  chance  of  minor 
importance.  The  trolls,  underground  people  of  di- 
minutive stature,  elves  and  fairies  live  largely  in  the 
imagination  and  the  folk  stories  relative  to  these  phan- 
toms have  a  strong  influence  upon  the  children.  Where 
the  cliffs  rise  directly  out  of  the  sea,  there  are  many 
isolated  columns,  like  the  "Old  Man  of  Hoy"  in 
Orkney,  which  have  been  left  standing  by  erosion  of 
the  waves.  The  water  surges  around  them  and  they 
stand  erect  in  the  mists,  solitary  and  unpressed  by  hu- 
man foot.  The  Faroese  call  them  the  "Fingers  of  the 
Norns"  and  the  fishermen  hold  them  in  deep  supersti- 
tion. This  northern  superstition,  the  control  of  mortals 
by  unseen  powers,  has  been  made  use  of  by  Sir  Walter 
Scott  in  that  mysterious  character  in  the  Pirate,  Noma 
of  the  Fitful  Head. 

The  people  are  chiefly  occupied  in  fishing,  sheep  rais- 
ing and  bird  catching.  The  codfish  abound  in  these 
cool  northern  waters,  especially  on  the  Faroe  Bank. 
They  not  only  secure  enough  of  them  for  their  own 
consumption  but  export  large  quantities  to  the  Catholic 
countries  of  the  Mediterranean.  As  in  Labrador  and 
in  Iceland,  so  in  Faroe,  the  fishing  is  done  by  the  men, 
while  the  splitting,  cleaning,  curing  and  packing  is  the 
work  of  the  women. 


44  ICELAND 

The  one  time  in  the  year  when  the  Faroese  are 
moved  from  the  even  tenor  of  their  way  is  during  the 
whale  drive.  This  is  a  yearly  affair  that  takes  place 
during  the  latter  part  of  July  or  early  in  August.  It  is 
the  one  great  sport  of  the  country  and  upon  its  success 
depends  the  condition  of  the  larder  during  the  long 
winter.  This  is  the  bottle-nose  whale,  Hyperoodon 
ro stratum,  a.  small  species  from  fifteen  to  twenty-two 
feet  in  length.  They  frequent  the  north  Atlantic  in 
large  schools.  The  Faroese  are  constantly  on  the  look 
out  for  them  and  when  the  whales  enter  the  channels 
the  summons  by  signals  and  telephone  is  rapidly  passed 
from  island  to  island.  In  an  incredibly  short  time  the 
school  is  nearly  surrounded  by  the  boats  of  the  excited 
fishermen  with  harpoons  and  spears.  Because  of  the 
great  shouting  and  the  closing  together  of  the  boats, 
the  whales  become  frightened  and  frantically  rush  to 
the  shore  where  most  of  them  are  stranded,  few  ever 
escape.  From  the  boats,  from  the  shore,  and  in  the 
water,  the  slender  harpoon  is  hurled  with  deadly  aim. 
The  whale  once  struck  is  securely  anchored  and  the  har- 
pooner  hastens  to  secure  another  victim.  When  the 
slaughter  is  over,  the  heads  are  cut  off  and  numbered, 
the  bodies  cut  up  and  distributed  under  the  direction  of 
the  sheriffs  and  an  equitable  distribution  of  the  flesh 
and  fat  is  made  according  to  law.  Not  only  do  the 
people  actually  present  at  the  whale  slaughter  receive 
their  portion  but  all  the  people  in  the  district  receive 
their  just  share.  The  flesh  of  these  whales  is  similar 
to  dark  colored  coarse  grained  beef,  but  when  nicely 
broiled  is  a  palatable  and  nutritious  dish.  The  body 
is  enveloped  with  two  to  six  inches  of  fat,  which  has 
the  consistency  of  hard  fat  pork.  This  is  salted  and 
used  by  the  people  as  we  use  salt  pork.  The  flesh  is 
smoked,  dried  or  salted.  Owing  to  the  scarcity  of  grass 
the  Faroese  cows  sometimes  subsist  upon  dried  whale 


FAROE  45 

meat  in  the  winter  and  often  eat  dried  fish  heads. 

The  third  occupation  of  the  people  is  bird  catching. 
This  is  followed  by  a  restricted  portion  of  the  popula- 
tion. The  great  cliffs  of  Faroe,  ranking  with  the  finest 
in  the  world,  arc  the  homes  of  myriads  of  sea  birds. 
Bird  catching  is  an  art  as  well  as  an  occupation  and 
has  descended  from  father  to  son  through  many  genera- 
tions. The  skua,  puffin,  guillemot  and  eider  duck  arc 
among  the  more  numerous  birds.  They  are  taken  for 
their  flesh,  oil  and  feathers.  Many  of  the  birds  arc 
captured  in  nets  similar  to  a  butterfly  net,  except  that 
the  net  is  flat  and  spread  between  two  forks  at  the  end 
of  a  long  pole.  I  measured  one  of  these  nets  and  found 
the  handle  to  be  eighteen  feet  long  and  each  of  the 
Y-shaped  prongs  was  six  feet.  Between  the  arms  of 
the  Y  is  stretched  the  net.  In  use  the  fowler  sits  upon 
a  rock  and  when  he  sees  a  puffin  flying  directly  towards 
him  he  elevates  the  net,  the  bird  is  clumsy,  unable  to 
quickly  change  his  direction  and  flying  into  the  net 
becomes  entangled.  I  sat  by  one  of  the  fowlers  in  Ice- 
land one  day  who  was  working  with  one  of  these  nets 
and  in  thirty  minutes  he  secured  forty  birds.  Often 
times  the  record  of  two  or  more  a  minute  is  made,  when 
the  birds  are  flying  well.  The  puffin  burrows  in  the 
ground  like  a  rabbit  and  there  rears  its  young.  During 
the  day  they  haunt  the  sea,  collect  small  fish  and  then 
fly  in  great  companies  in  long  files  to  their  nests. 

The  fowler  is  also  an  expert  cragsman  and  whether 
he  creeps  along  the  narrow  shelf  hundreds  of  feet  above 
the  sea  and  works  his  way  from  point  to  point  on  the 
overhanging  cliffs,  or  is  suspended  like  a  pendulum  on 
a  rope  four  to  five  hundred  feet,  he  is  cool,  collected, 
skillful,  and  always  successful.  In  fact  he  is  the  best 
cragsman  in  the  world. 

There  are  a  few  domestic  arts  that  have  reached 
perfection,  as  far  as  their  purpose  is  concerned,  such 


46  ICELAND 

as  spinning,  weaving,  fulling,  embroidering,  boat-build- 
ing and  metal  decorating.  The  Faroeman  is  an  ex- 
pert at  wood  and  bone  carving  and  at  metal  inlaying. 
My  Faroese  sheath  knife,  made  by  Peter  Arge,  is  a 
model  of  skillful  construction,  deftly  inlaid  with  the 
mother  of  pearl  and  silver.  The  sheath  is  of  ebony, 
inlaid  with  silver  in  the  form  of  a  whale  boat,  harpoon 
and  fish  hooks. 

Faroe  is  the  stepping  stone  to  Iceland.  I  have 
visited  it  on  seven  different  occasions,  have  passed 
through  nearly  every  one  of  its  numerous  channels, 
wandered  through  the  villages,  attended  a  country  auc- 
tion much  like  that  held  in  the  rural  districts  of  New 
England,  climbed  the  lower  slopes  of  its  hills  which 
overlook  the  fiords,  witnessed  the  marvelous  bird  life 
and  learned  a  little  about  the  quaint  inhabitants  and 
my  experience  has  been  such  that  I  can  cordially  recom- 
mend these  lofty  islands  as  a  delightful  spot  for  a  sum- 
mer's holiday.  The  tourist  will  be  given  all  necessary 
assistance  and  information,  whether  he  desires  to  paint, 
fish  in  the  little  lakes  of  the  glacial  valleys,  accompany 
the  fowler  in  his  dangerous  occupation  upon  the  cliffs 
or  journey  from  island  to  island  through  the  wonderful 
channels  with  the  fishermen.  He  will  obtain  homely 
but  clean  and  nutritious  food,  and  when  the  crust  of 
conservatism  is  broken  and  the  confidence  of  the  host 
is  secured,  he  will  pass  many  an  hour  in  delightful  con- 
versation which  will  store  his  mind  with  quaint  anec- 
dotes and  ancient  myths.  He  will  leave  the  islands 
with  regret  and  in  after  years  will  sometimes  long  for 
the  serene  and  peaceful  life  of  the  Faroese,  where 
worry,  care  and  social  duties  do  not  intrude  and  he  will 
count  among  his  warmest  friends  the  stoical  Faroese. 

With  the  ever  changing  mood  of  sea  and  sky  these 
isles  present  a  kaleidoscopic  picture.  The  frowning  cliffs 
alive  with  sea  birds,  where  "clouds  on  clouds  arise," 


FAROE  47 

the  higher  pinacles  obscured  or  banded  with  drifting 
cloud  ribbons,  the  patches  of  pristine  snow  high  up 
in  the  mountain  clefts  from  which  numerous  water- 
falls leap  the  cliffs  to  fall  in  silver  spray  upon  the  sea, 
the  quaintly  garbed  Faroese  swinging  like  pendulums 
from  the  projecting  lava  to  net  the  birds,  or,  bobbing 
in  their  boats  upon  the  waves,  the  tiny  homes  set  in  a 
bit  of  emerald  vegetation  in  an  angle  of  the  mountain 
wall,  the  changing  panorama  of  sea,  cliff  and  sky  as  the 
boat  raced  with  the  current  through  the  tortuous  chan- 
nels and  turned  the  last  rockspire  into  the  northern 
ocean  and  the  fading  of  the  mighty  headlands  in  the 
purple  haze  of  a  midnight  twilight, — these  were  the 
elements  of  a  picture  well  worth  ten  thousand  miles  of 
travel.  Faroe  with  the  quaintness  of  twelve  centuries 
of  isolation  dropped  below  the  horizon  and  the  next 
land  to  delight  the  eye  was  to  be  Iceland. 

I  was  with  the  mate  on  the  bridge  at  five  the  next 
morning  and  as  anxious  as  was  Ingolfr  and  his  foster 
brother,  Hjorleifr,  eleven  centuries  before,  to  discover 
what  secrets  these  northern  waters  held, — when  the 
dim  outline  of  land  was  seen  through  the  shifting  fog. 
An  enthusiastic  Dane,  an  Icelandic  maiden  and  her 
Swedish  lover  started  the  national  anthem  of  Iceland. 

"Eldgamla   Isafold, 
Astkaera  fosturmold, 
Fjallkonan  frio1, 
Mogum  pin  muntu  kaer, 
MeSan  lond  gyroMr  saer, 
Og  gumar  girnast  maer, 
Gljar  sol  a  hl»." 

At  that  time  I  did  not  distinguish  the  Icelandic  from 
the  Danish  but  I  knew  the  tune,  America,  and  I  mingled 
the  good  English  words  of  Dr.  Smith  with  the  lisping 
gutterals  of  the  Scandinavian.     Norse  and  Yankee  are 


48  ICELAND 

well  met  in  this  Icelandic  sea  and  I  doff  my  cap  to  the 
descendants  of  those  sturdy  mariners  who  discovered 
Iceland,  Greenland  and  America  before  Columbus  was 
born,  who  Anglicised  Celt  and  Britain  and  eventually 
made  possible  our  own  dear  New  England. 

The  morning  vapors  are  scattered.  The  ocean  is 
a  thing  of  life.  It  rolls  in  all  the  wild  freedom  of  the 
north,  rich  in  livid  shades  of  blue  and  green  in  the 
nearer  circle  of  our  vision  while  on  the  far  horizon  it 
is  a  sparkling  amethyst  beneath  the  deeper  azure  of  the 
bending  sky.  To  the  north,  the  circle  is  broken  by  the 
abrupt  basaltic  towers  of  IngolfshofSi.  Beyond  these 
rise  the  red  and  brown  fragments  of  extinct  craters,  and 
yet  beyond  and  towering  far  above  them  are  the 
glaciated  Jokulls  down  whose  sides  rush  mighty  tor- 
rents to  dash  in  uncounted  waterfalls  into  the  impatient 
sea.  It  was  at  this  point  that  the  foster  brothers  cast 
overboard  the  temple  pillars  of  Ingolfr,  who  vowed  by 
Odin,  that  upon  whatever  coast  they  were  cast,  there 
would  he  found  his  colony.  Hjorleifr  went  to  the 
neighboring  islands,  the  Westmans,  where  he  was  soon 
afterwards  murdered  by  his  Irish  serfs.  Ingolfr  tarried 
here  for  about  three  years  and  sent  parties  along  the 
coast  to  search  for  the  lost  pillars. 

This  bold  promontory  is  also  noted  in  the  Saga  of 
Burnt  Njal  as  being  the  place  where  Kari,  the  blood- 
avenger  of  Njal  was  wrecked  when  returning  from  his 
exile.  Near  here  stood  the  house  of  Flosi,  the  life-long 
enemy  of  Kari.  The  incident  shows  the  sacredness  of 
hospitality  among  these  savage  people.  Kari  went 
boldly  to  Flosi  and  asked  for  succor  from  the  storm. 
The  Burner,  in  spite  of  the  sworn  enmity  to  Kari, 
granted  his  request,  welcomed  him  with  a  Scandinavian 
welcome  and  afterwards  they  became  lifelong  friends. 

We  came  close  in  under  the  bare  black  walls  of 
Eyjafjalla,  Island-Mountain,  and  gazed  up  to  Skoga- 


FAROE  49 

foss,  Forest  Waterfall,  tumbling  one  hundred  and 
eighty  feet  of  unbroken  water  into  the  breakers  which 
boiled  with  the  black  volcanic  sand.  At  length  we 
came  to  Festmannaeyjar,  Westman  Isles,  which,  like 
the  fingers  of  the  Norns  had  been  beckoning  to  us  all 
the  morning. 


CHAPTER  V 

VESTMANNAEYJAR 

"Here,  by  each  stormy  peak  and  desert  shore, 
The  hardy  isleman  tugs  the  daring  oar, 
Practiced  alike  his  venturous  course  to  keep, 
Through  the  white  breakers  or  the  pathless  deep." 

— Scott. 

THESE  islands  are  named  for  the  Irish  slaves, 
formerly  called  Westmen,  who  are  reported 
to  have  fled  to  this  desolate  pile  in  879.  For 
centuries  it  was  the  resort  of  piratical  expedi- 
tions from  England  and  from  far-away  Barbary.  The 
first  recorded  attack  was  made  by  an  English  crew 
under  the  command  of  "Gentleman  John."  Three 
years  afterwards  the  church  property  was  restored  by 
King  James,  and  John  was  severely  punished. 

The  greatest  raid  was  made  in  1627.  Barbary 
pirates  were  planning  an  expedition  for  plunder.  One 
of  them  held  a  Danish  slave  by  the  name  of  Paul,  who 
was  tired  of  his  life  of  servitude  and  counseled  his  mas- 
ter to  make  an  expedition  to  Iceland.  He  stated  that 
he  had  been  there  and  could  pilot  them  and  that 
they  could  obtain  a  large  profit  in  sheep  and  church 
valuables  as  well  as  many  slaves.  The  expedition  was 
decided  upon  and  for  his  treachery  he  was  to  receive 
his  freedom.  The  flotilla  comprised  four  ships,  one 
sailing  from  Kyle  and  three  from  Algiers.  June  15 
1627  the  ship  from  Kyle  reached  Grimdavik,  Iceland. 
They  ransacked  the  village  and  took  several  prisoners. 
The  people  mistook  the  pirates  for  English  fishermen, 
who  had  long  been  in  the  habit  of  landing  on  the  coast 
to  steal  a  few  sheep,  and  so  did  not  flee.  The  Moors 
captured   a   Danish  trading  vessel   and  then  sailed  to 

50 


VESTM  ANNE  Y  JAR  51 

Hafnarfjordr.  After  raiding  this  settlement  they 
sailed  for  Kyle,  which  they  reached  in  five  weeks  from 
their  departure.  Their  prisoners  were  sold  in  the  slave 
market. 

The  three  ships  from  Algiers  reached  Berufjorfir 
and  thoroughly  sacked  the  town.  They  remained  on 
the  Iceland  coast  eight  days,  captured  one  hundred  and 
ten  people  and  secured  a  large  amount  of  booty  from 
the  treasure  chests  of  the  people  and  the  churches. 
They  were  extremely  cruel  with  the  older  people  but 
quite  kind  to  the  children,  hoping  to  convert  them  to 
the  faith  of  Mohammed.     To  illustrate, — 

At  Hal  they  found  the  priest's  wife,  an  aged  woman, 
confined  to  the  bed  with  sickness.  They  dragged  her 
down  to  the  shore,  but  finding  her  physically  unable 
to  go  with  them,  beat  her  into  an  unconscious  state  with 
their  muskets,  a  condition  much  to  be  preferred  to 
that  in  which  so  many  of  her  people  found  themselves 
in  Moorish  slavery. 

They  next  set  sail  for  the  Westman  Isles.  They 
pressed  into  service  an  Icelandic  renegade  who  had 
acted  as  pilot  for  English  fishing  boats.  At  this  time 
the  population  of  Heimaey  was  of  two  classes;  first,  Ice- 
landic fishermen  and  birdcatchers  and  second,  a  small 
Colony  of  Danish  officials  and  their  servants.  The  Ice- 
landers so  mistrusted  the  Danes  that  they  fled  to  the 
cliffs  rather  than  assist  them  to  repel  the  invaders.  The 
Danish  agent,  Bagge,  armed  his  assistants  and  prepared 
as  best  he  could  for  defense,  posting  sentinels  around 
the  island. 

Early  in  the  morning  Thorstein  showed  the  pirates 
a  secret  path  up  the  face  of  the  cliffs  at  the  south,  which 
they  ascended  and  spread  out  their  damp  powder  to 
dry.  During  this  time  they  danced  and  yelled  in  fiend- 
ish glee  looking  down  upon  their  helpless  victims.  The 
raiders  then  divided  into  three  bands  and  thoroughly 


52  ICELAND 

ransacked  the  village.  They  looted  the  church  and  in 
mockery  rang  the  bells,  arrayed  themselves  in  the  vest- 
ments of  the  priest  and  finally  burned  the  church.  The 
people  fled  to  the  several  caves  in  the  tufa,  many  were 
murdered  while  in  flight  and  others  captured  and  bound. 
For  three  days  one  hundred  people  hid  in  one  of  these 
caves  which  is  so  concealed  that  it  is  with  difficulty  that 
it  can  be  found. 

Jon  Thorstein,  the  first  translator  of  the  Psalms  into 
Icelandic  verse,  a  priest,  since  called  "the  Martyr,'1 
took  refuge  in  a  small  cave  with  his  family  where  he 
doubtless  would  have  been  saved  had  it  not  been  for 
the  curiosity  of  a  companion  who  ventured  to  the  en- 
trance and  exposed  himself  and  thus  attracted  the  at- 
tention of  the  pirates.  The  following  account  is  from 
the  history  of  Bjorn  of  Scandsd: — 

"The  priest  went  to  the  outer  part  of  the  cave,  where 
he  saw  that  blood  ran  in  the  opening;  and  then  he 
hied  him  out,  and  saw  that  Snorri  lay  headless  at  the 
door  of  the  cave :  for  the  raiders  had  shot  off  his  head, 
and  he  had  been  to  them  a  signal  for  the  cave.  Then 
Jon  went  within  again  telling  this  hap;  and  he  bade 
his  folks  beseech  Almighty  God  to  succor  them.  Forth- 
with thereafter  these  noisy  hounds  stood  over  the  cave, 
so  that  he  heard  their  footfall." 

"  'Margrjet,  they  are  coming,'  he  said,  'Lo,  I  will  go 
to  meet  them  without  fear!'  " 

"He  prayed  that  God's  grace  might  not  leave  her. 
But  while  the  words  were  in  the  saying,  the  blood- 
thirsty hounds  came  to  the  cave's  mouth  and  would 
search  it,  but  the  priest  went  out  to  meet  them.  Now 
when  they  saw  him,  one  of  them  said,"  (doubtless  the 
renegade,  Thorstein), — 

"  'Why  art  thou  here,  Sira  Jon?  Ought'st  not  to  be  at 
home  in  thy  church?'  "     The  priest  answered — 

"  'I  was  there  this  morning.'  " 


VESTM  ANNE  Y  JAR  53 


»  n 


Then  said  the  murderer, 

"  'Thou  wilt  not  be  there  to-morrow  morning.' 
And  thereafter  he  cut  him  on  the  head  to  the  bone. 
The  priest  stretched  out  his  hands  and  said, — 

"  'I  commit  me  to  my  God.  That  thou  doest  do 
freely!'  "  uThe  wretch  then  struck  him  another  blow. 
At  this  he  cried  out  saying, — " 

"  T  commit  me  to  my  Lord  Jesus  Christ.' 

"Then  Margrjet,  the  priest's  wife,  cast  herself  at  the 
feet  of  the  tyrant,  and  clung  to  them,  thinking  that  his 
heart  might  be  softened,  but  there  was  no  pity  in  these 
monsters.  Then  the  scoundrel  struck  a  third  blow. 
The  priest  said, — " 

11  'That  is  enough.    Lord  Jesus  receive  my  soul  1' 
Then  the  foul  man  cleft  his  skull  asunder.     Thus  he 
lost  his  life." 

"There  was  a  little  rift  higher  up  in  the  cliff  than 
where  these  folk  lay,  and  two  women  saw  and  heard 
all  these  things." 

Nearly  four  hundred  Icelanders  were  carried  to  the 
Algerian  slave  markets  where  most  of  them  speedily 
succumbed  to  the  cruelty  of  their  masters  and  the  hot 
climate.  Of  the  many  carried  away  only  thirteen  ever 
returned  to  their  native  land. 

When  Herjolfr  settled  in  the  Westman  islands, 
legend  relates  that  he  buried  a  large  amount  of  gold, 
part  of  which  he  obtained  in  his  Viking  expeditions 
to  the  English  Channel  and  the  remainder  by  selling 
the  water  of  the  only  spring  on  Heimaey.  His  daugh- 
ter, Vilborg,  in  true  charity  and  by  stealth,  distributed 
the  water  to  poor  people  in  times  of  drought.  The 
residents  of  the  island  delight  to  show  the  niche  in  the 
tufa  where  Herjolfr  stabled  his  horses.  The  only  spring 
on  Heimaey  to  this  day  is  called  Vilpa  in  memory  of 
the  maiden.  Her  father  with  all  his  wealth  was  buried 
during  an  earthquake  and  the  inhabitants,  when  they 


54  ICELAND 

have  nothing  else  to  do,  delight  in  searching  for  the 
hidden  treasure  which  the  leader  of  the  pirates,  Morad, 
failed  to  find. 

The  Westman  Isles  are  fourteen  in  number  and  lie 
seven  miles  off  the  south  coast  of  Iceland.  Four  of 
these  are  entirely  barren,  sea-washed  and  storm-beaten, 
affording  admirable  nesting  places  for  sea  birds.  The 
strait  which  separates  them  from  the  mainland  is  shal- 
low, beset  with  shoals  and  hidden  reefs  and  contains 
several  treacherous  currents.  The  mainland  shore,  the 
Rangar  Sands,  has  a  broad  morass  of  drifting  volcanic 
sand,  upon  which  heavy  waves  continually  break,  ren- 
dering it  nearly  impossible  to  launch  or  beach  a  boat. 
Thus  the  Westman  Isles  are  isolated  much  more  than 
the  narrow  strait  would  indicate. 

Until  within  a  few  years  the  children  born  on 
Heimaey  have  always  died  within  two  weeks  of  birth 
with  infantile  tetanus.  It  was  formerly  the  custom 
for  prospective  mothers  to  visit  the  mainland  to  save 
their  children  from  this  dread  disease.  Improved  sani- 
tary conditions  and  scientific  medical  treatment  have 
lately  made  this  customary  precaution  unnecessary.  For- 
merly the  inhabitants  were  recruited  by  residents  of  the 
north  of  Iceland. 

Heimaey,  the  "Home  Island,"  has  an  area  of  only 
four  square  miles  and  a  population  of  less  than  one 
thousand.  The  village  is  on  the  northern  side  of  the 
island,  on  the  south  shore  of  a  little  bay,  under  the 
bird  cliffs  which  afford  a  harbor  for  small  craft  and 
then  only  in  calm  weather.  This  little  bay  is  separated 
from  the  strait  by  the  grand  bird  cliffs  2000  feet 
high,  which  are  attached  to  the  island  by  a  narrow  rim 
of  volcanic  sand.  A  solitary  cone,  Helgafell,  with  a 
black  crater  stands  at  the  center  of  the  island  and 
Heimaey  clings  to  the  lower  slope  of  the  volcano,  ap- 
parently ready  to  loose  its  grip  and  slip  into  the  sea. 


VESTMANNEYJAR  55 

The  land  slopes  gently  upward  to  the  cone  of  cinder, 
tufa,  and  ash.  The  lower  slopes  are  covered  with  a 
scanty  carpet  of  grass  freely  sprinkled  with  flowers, 
where  uncertain  pasturage  invites  the  sheep  and  forms 
a  strong  contrast  to  the  red  and  black  cone  which  rises 
naked  against  sea  and  sky. 

The  remainder  of  the  island  is  a  rough  and  jagged 
mass  of  lava,  partly  disintegrated  into  a  desolate  moor 
and  partly  storm-swept  to  the  very  ribs  of  the  island. 
No  brook  chatters  in  the  dark  ravines,  no  trees  shadow 
the  sheep  from  summer's  long  sunshine.  Wherever  the 
lava  has  crumbled  to  mingle  with  the  droppings  of  un- 
counted generations  of  seabirds,  the  grass  is  emerald 
green  as  if  in  memory  of  the  first  settlers  from  the  Em- 
erald Isle.  The  climate  is  mild  and  enjoys  the  highest 
mean  temperature  in  all  Iceland.  For  centuries  the 
people  have  had  to  depend  upon  their  own  resources. 
In  recent  years  they  have  obtained  supplies  from 
Europe  in  exchange  for  oil,  fish  and  feathers. 

The  houses,  for  the  most  part,  are  tidy  little  homes 
often  with  a  little  patch  of  carefully  guarded  cultiva- 
tion. At  the  rear  of  the  village  stands  the  modest 
parish  church,  containing  a  good  altar  piece  painted 
upon  wood.  Beside  the  church  is  the  cemetery  en- 
closed with  a  wall  of  lava  and  turf.  The  graves  are 
mounds  raised  high  above  the  level  of  the  land,  be- 
cause the  lava  is  so  near  the  surface  that  to  dig  a 
grave  is  impossible  and  dirt  is  carried  to  the  cemetery 
to  form  the  mounds. 

Excavations  made  in  the  volcanic  sand  in  19 10  by 
Baron  Klinckowstrom  of  Stockholm  help  to  fix  the  date 
of  the  last  eruption  of  the  volcano.  In  the  sand  and 
ash  he  found  evidences  of  a  former  people,  a  comb 
of  ancient  Scandinavian  construction  and  the  bones  of 
the  seal  and  sheep.  One  great  volcano  formerly  cov- 
ered this  entire  area  and  poured  out  ashes  and  cinder 


S6  ICELAND 

all  around  it.  This  material  has  since  solidified  into 
tufa  and  much  of  the  tufa  has  been  worn  away,  leaving 
many  solid  columns  of  the  original  lava  core,  which 
stand  isolated  in  the  sea.  Then  came  the  second  erup- 
tion when  the  crater  of  Helgafell  was  formed.  The 
references  given  in  the  Landamabok  and  the  exhumed 
material  fix  the  date  of  this  eruption  subsequent  to  the 
settlement  of  the  island  by  the  Irish  slaves.  The  tufa 
itself  is  very  hard  for  this  class  of  volcanic  rock.  It  is 
weathered  in  fantastic  forms  with  myriads  of  niches 
and  contains  several  sea  caves.  One  of  these  is  so  large 
that  we  entered  it  in  a  thirty  foot  naptha  launch  and 
turned  about  within.  The  view  from  within  is  strange 
and  impressive.  The  deep  azure  of  the  waters,  the 
light  brown  tufa  dome,  the  dark  cone  of  Helgafell 
rising  above  the  village  and  the  clouds  of  sea  birds 
shadowing  the  entrance  to  the  cave  and  filling  the  air 
with  a  resounding  clangor  on  our  exit  made  a  mark 
on  memory's  tablet  never  to  be  effaced. 

The  most  interesting  occupation  in  Heimaey  is  bird 
catching.  Of  course  the  fish  curing  is  worthy  of  at- 
tention, but  then  it  is  much  the  same  whether  we  see 
it  on  the  drear  coast  of  Labrador,  the  green  slopes  of 
the  Faroes,  the  lava  blocks  of  Iceland  or  the  wood 
stages  of  Gloucester.  With  the  inhabitants  of  this  vol- 
canic pile  it  is  not  only  a  business  it  is  a  pleasure  and 
an  art  which  has  culminated  with  generations  of  ex- 
perience. The  fulmar,  puffin  and  guillemot  are  the 
principal  birds  taken.  Throughout  the  summer  the  rau- 
cid  clamor  of  the  fulmars  on  the  face  of  the  cliffs  mingles 
with  the  complaints  of  the  puffins  which  stand  in  long 
rows  like  lines  of  soldiers,  and  the  guillemots  scan  each 
other  sagely  from  their  captured  niches  in  the  tufa. 
These  mammoth  cliffs  are  riddled  with  holes  and  cracks 
and  ornamented  with  narrow,  projecting  ledges.  Above 
the  cliffs  there  is  an  abundance  of  loose  material  where 


Helgafell,  Volcanic  Cone  in  Vestmannaeyjar. 


A   Chain  of  Basalt  Pyramids  in  Faroe. 


VESTMANNEYJAR  57 

the  shearwaters  and  puffins  excavate  their  burrows. 

The  cliffs  are  the  property  of  the  Danish  Crown  and 
are  rented  annually  in  sections  at  a  price  ranging  from 
sixty  to  seventy-five  dollars.  The  laws  governing  bird 
catching  are  well  defined  and  strict.  The  season  and 
method  of  capture  of  each  species  is  explicitly  stated. 
A  gun  can  never  be  used  under  any  circumstances. 
No  act  can  be  committed  which  would  in  the  least  dis- 
turb the  birds.  The  eider  duck  can  never  be  killed  ex- 
cept by  a  man  who  can  prove  that  he  was  actually  starv- 
ing with  no  other  means  of  procuring  food.  But  above 
all  the  laws  and  rendering  laws  unnecessary  is  a  sound 
public  opinion. 

All  the  birds  are  very  tame.  Tens  of  thousands  of 
puffins  sit  upright  along  the  tops  of  the  crags,  many 
of  them  still  holding  rows  of  little  fishes  in  their  great 
beaks.  The  catchers  station  themselves  at  definite  in- 
tervals along  the  cliffs  and  catch  them  in  a  net  as  they 
fly  past.  Their  necks  are  broken  with  a  sudden  twist 
as  the  net  is  unloaded  and  the  birds  left  in  piles  along 
the  ground  or  thrown  to  the  bottom  of  the  cliff  to  be 
gathered  by  the  boys  and  women  who  pluck  them. 
The  breast  is  used  for  food.  The  remainder  of  the 
birds  are  strung  on  long  lines  and  hung  upon  the  fences 
or  festooned  from  the  gables  of  the  houses  to  dry  and 
to  furnish  fuel.  A  single  puffin  is  worth  when  first  cap- 
tured about  a  cent  and  a  half.  The  down  is  sold  at  the 
trader's  store  for  thirteen  cents  per  pound.  About 
40,000  puffins  are  taken  on  these  cliffs  each  season. 

The  fulmar  is  nearly  as  important  as  the  puffin. 
About  30,000  are  captured  during  the  open  season. 
The  fulmar,  "foul-gull,"  is  appropriately  named. 
When  captured  or  disturbed  it  spits  a  large  quantity  of 
oily  fluid,  rank  with  the  odor  of  putrid  fish.  These 
birds  are  taken  by  the  simple  act  of  knocking  them  over 
with  a  club.   Several  men  usually  work  in  unison.    One 


5  8  ICELAND 

man  has  a  long  rope  fastened  to  his  waist  and  then 
twisted  around  each  thigh.  Suspended  in  the  air,  or 
with  his  feet  against  the  face  of  the  cliff  he  ascends  or 
descends  the  sides  of  the  rock,  kicking  himself  out- 
ward. The  rope  is  managed  by  three  or  four  men  at 
the  top  of  the  cliff  and  sometimes  secured  by  an  iron 
ring  fastened  in  the  rock. 

The  fulmars  are  plucked,  the  heads  and  wings  cut 
off,  the  body  split  open,  the  interior  fat  cleaned  out,  and 
then  the  birds  are  either  smoked  or  packed  in  salt  for 
winter  use.  The  fat  is  boiled  down  to  a  thick  oil,  spiced 
and  used  as  a  substitute  for  butter.  Ten  fulmars  will 
yield  a  liter  of  oil.  The  oil  is  used  in  the  native  lamps. 
The  entrails,  heads,  wings  and  legs  are  dried  and  used 
for  fuel.  It  is  so  difficult  to  free  the  feathers  from  the 
oil  that  they  are  of  little  value.  When  thoroughly 
cleaned  they  are  worth  only  twelve  cents  per  pound. 
The  birds  themselves  when  cured  are  worth  four  cents 
each. 

Nearly  a  thousand  gannets,  Solon  Goose,  are  taken 
in  these  islands  each  year.  Why  it  is  called  the  "Solon" 
is  not  known.  It  is  possible  that  it  really  possesses 
wisdom  in  excess  of  other  geese.  Scientifically  it  is 
not  a  real  goose.  A  great  many  kittiwakes  and  guille- 
mots are  captured  though  the  total  value  is  much  less 
than  the  above  mentioned  birds. 

The  young  men  of  Heimaey  capture  the  stormy 
petrels  alive  for  the  purpose  of  playing  jokes  with 
them.  The  birds  give  a  sound  similar  to  the  purring 
of  a  cat.  Several  of  them  are  let  loose  in  the  night 
in  the  house  of  the  person  on  whom  the  joke  is  to  be 
played.  The  birds  dart  about  the  house  in  a  lively 
manner  and  give  their  cry  of  alarm  which  is  weird 
and  uncanny.  It  produces  the  desired  effect  upon  the 
sleeper  as  he  awakens. 

We  steamed  away  from  Heimaey,  passed  between 


VESTM  ANNE  Y  JAR  59 

Fuglasker  and  Reykjaness  where  steam  was  rising  from 
numerous  hot  springs  and  at  seven  in  the  morning,  hav- 
ing crossed  Faxafjordr,  dropped  anchor  in  the  stream 
before  the  still  slumbering  city  of  Reykjavik. 


CHAPTER  VI 

REYKJAVIK 

"When  the  old  world  is  sterile 

And  the  ages  are  effete, 
He  will  from  wrecks  and  sediment 

The  fairer  world  complete." 

— Emerson. 

AFTER  searching  three  years,  Ingolfr  found 
the  storm-driven  pillars  cast  ashore  in  a 
steaming  creek.  He  called  the  place  Reyk- 
javik, the  Smoking  Creek. 
Hardly  was  the  anchor  down  in  the  midstream  be- 
fore a  rosy  cheeked  and  genial  gentleman  came  on 
board  and  introduced  himself  as  Helgi  Zoega.  He 
was  the  man  with  whom  I  had  corresponded  relative 
to  arranging  our  trip,  providing  ponies,  a  guide  and 
a  pack  train.  To  his  quiet  forethought  and  courteous- 
ness  in  after  days  I  had  much  for  which  to  be  thankful. 
We  were  absolute  strangers  to  land  and  people.  He 
took  us  ashore  in  his  boat  and  conducted  us  to  Hotel 
Island  where  we  found  a  comfortable,  large  and  well 
furnished  room.  Shortly  our  baggage  appeared  by  the 
same  quiet  agency.  I  then  went  to  his  office  and  spent 
some  time  in  going  over  the  plan  of  the  route  to  be 
followed,  the  ponies,  their  equipment  and  the  provisions 
to  be  taken. 

I  had  been  judiciously  forwarned  by  the  books  of 
several  English  travellers  about  the  snares  into  which 
the  uninitiated  would  fall  in  dealing  with  an  Icelandic 
guide  so  I  was  forearmed.  I  recall  the  quiet  smile  that 
scarcely  spread  from  Zoega's  lips  when  I  asked  about 
the  extra  straps,  the  extra  shoes  for  the  ponies  and 
the  price  that  was  to  be  paid  at  the  end  of  the  journey, 

60 


REYKJAVIK  6 1 

the  reliability  of  the  guide  and  if  the  agreement  had 
not  better  be  placed  in  writing  to  avoid  misunder- 
standing at  time  of  settlement.  He  replied  that  all 
was  in  readiness  according  to  my  wishes  and  his  experi- 
ence and  assured  me  of  a  satisfactory  ending  of  the 
journey.  Let  me  state  that  in  my  long  experience  with 
Mr.  Zoega  and  many  other  Icelandic  gentlemen,  I 
was  always  squarely  treated  in  small  as  well  as  in 
larger  matters.  Never  has  an  Icelander  attempted  to 
take  advantage  of  my  ignorance.  As  far  as  my  ex- 
perience of  four  summers  in  Iceland  goes  the  English 
statements  are  libels  on  Icelandic  integrity.  Could  we 
do  business  in  America  with  the  same  frankness  and 
reliability  we  would  need  less  bookkeeping,  there  would 
be  less  locking  of  doors  and  less  work  for  the  courts; 
we  might  close  many  of  our  jails  and  divert  a  whole 
army  of  people  from  corrective  and  restraining  work 
into  productive  occupations. 

The  route  decided  upon,  the  arrangements  com- 
pleted to  our  satisfaction,  Mrs.  Russell  and  I  set  out 
to  view  the  city  of  Reykjavik  and  receive  our  first  im- 
pressions of  Iceland.  We  turned  our  steps  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  Lang,  hot  spring,  which  is  about  two  miles 
from  the  city  square.  The  route  is  along  the  Laugar- 
vegur,  a  street  with  many  houses  of  comfortable  design 
and  good  construction.  The  hot  springs  are  on  a 
small  stream  running  out  of  the  meadow  into  the  bav. 
Along  the  route  we  saw  many  women  with  bundles  on 
their  backs,  boys  with  wheelbarrows  filled  with  clothes 
and  others  carrying  large  wicker  baskets.  It  is  the 
"city  laundry."  A  long  iron  grill  has  been  erected  over 
the  run-way  from  the  boiling  springs  to  prevent  acci- 
dents. The  clothes  are  washed  in  the  running  water 
and  hung  up  to  dry  on  numerous  lines  strung  in  the 
meadow.  Commodious  sheds  have  been  erected  for 
protection   during  rain  and  for  ironing  and  repairing 


62  ICELAND 

garments.  Great  piles  of  wool  were  scattered  over  the 
hillside  to  dry  after  being  washed  in  the  springs. 
Throughout  the  country  the  hot  springs  are  made  use 
of  for  woolwashing.  The  water  seems  to  have  special 
properties  for  removing  the  animal  grease. 

When  we  had  returned  from  our  long  trip  across  the 
country  in  19 10  we  sent  a  generous  supply  of  soiled, 
torn  and  buttonless  clothes  to  this  out-of-door  laundry. 
What  was  our  amazement  to  find  on  its  return  to  the 
hotel  that  the  buttons  had  been  replaced  and  all  the 
rents  neatly  repaired.  What  a  contrast  to  an  Ameri- 
can laundry! 

The  flow  of  the  boiling  water  is  quite  constant 
throughout  the  year  and  the  temeprature  is  constant. 
My  thermometer  registered  95  °C.  in  the  runway.  Con- 
siderable steam  rises  from  the  water  and  when  the  air 
is  still  it  is  most  difficult  to  obtain  an  unclouded  photo- 
graph. The  water  is  impregnated  with  hydrogen  sulfid 
and  a  little  carbon  dioxid.  This  is  true  of  most  of  the 
hot  springs  in  the  country. 

On  our  return  to  the  city  we  passed  near  the  Leper 
Hospital,  an  excellent  modern  structure  located  near 
the  sea.  None  but  physicians  are  allowed  admission  to 
visit.  While  the  Teutonic  races  are  quite  free  from 
this  ancient  disease,  nevertheless  it  does  exist  in  Nor- 
way, around  the  shores  of  the  Baltic,  in  Iceland,  Scot- 
land and  in  those  portions  of  the  United  States  settled 
by  Scandinavians.  It  seems  to  effect  islands  and  sea- 
coasts  and  because  of  this  it  is  often  stated  that  the 
disease  in  Iceland  has  been  perpetuated  by  eating 
tainted  fish  in  times  of  famine.  Credit  is  due  the 
physicians  of  Iceland  in  not  only  controlling  the  plague 
but  in  actually  obtaining  a  steady  decrease.  This  dis- 
ease goes  hand  in  hand  with  tuberculosis,  that  is, 
lepers  are  usually  tubercular.  Lentil  recently  tubercu- 
losis was  prevalent  in  Iceland  owing  to  the  damp  and 


REYKJAVIK  63 

unventilated  houses  especially  on  the  farms.  Thanks 
to  the  energetic  crusade  of  the  Icelandic  doctors  the 
conditions  are  rapidly  improving  and  both  leprosy  and 
tuberculosis  are  decreasing.  The  Surgeon-General, 
GuSmundur  Bjornsson,  told  me  with  considerable  pride 
that  the  percentage  of  tuberculosis  in  Iceland  was  now 
less  than  in  Europe  or  the  United  States. 

Reykjavik  is  pleasantly  situated  on  the  north  side  of  a 
headland  projecting  into  Faxafjordr.  There  are  two 
high  hills  in  the  city  up  which  the  city  is  slowly  creeping. 
The  ancient  portion  of  the  city  is  on  the  level  ground 
along  the  waterfront.  It  is  not  the  untidy  and  ill-smelling 
place  that  many  English  writers  would  have  us  believe. 
On  the  contrary  it  is  clean,  the  streets  are  wide  and  well 
kept,  running  water  has  been  brought  from  a  distance 
of  eight  miles  to  the  capital.  The  fish  curing  is  con- 
fined to  the  shore  as  it  is  in  all  the  coast  towns  and  it 
is  not  offensive.  Indeed  I  might  cite  worse  conditions 
in  the  fishing  centers  of  Old  England  and  New  Eng- 
land. Many  a  street  in  Edinburgh,  London,  Boston 
and  New  York  is  in  worse  sanitary  condition  than  the 
meanest  streets  of  Reykjavik.  The  stores  are  numer- 
ous and  well  stocked  with  European  and  American 
wares.  Two  of  the  emporiums  rise  to  the  dignity  of 
apartment  stores,  where  the  necessities  of  life  as  well 
as  many  of  its  luxuries  may  be  obtained.  The  small 
shops  are  numerous  where  specialties  are  carried  such 
as  shoestores,  tobacconists,  dairy  products  and  station- 
ery shops.  Telegraph  and  telephone  connect  the  capi- 
tal with  all  the  towns  and  many  of  the  isolated  farms. 
The  submarine  cable  which  lands  at  SevSisfjorSr  con- 
nects the  island  with  the  world  beyond.  A  modern  gas 
plant  supplies  illumination  for  the  city  and  a  convenient 
fuel. 

The  population  is  a  little  less  than  12,000  and  has 
rapidly  increased  during  the  past  fifty-eight  years  under 


64  ICELAND 

the  influence  of  the  new  life  that  has  come  to  Iceland 
since  in  1854  the  people  obtained  commercial  liberty. 
In  1874  Iceland  got  its  constitution  which  was  amended 
in  1903  to  the  effect  that  the  Governor  must  be  an 
Icelander  and  reside  in  Reykjavik.  To  all  intents  Ice- 
land is  an  independent,  self-governing  republic  with  a 
liberal  constitution.  The  following  is  a  brief  outline  of 
the  government. 

It  has  a  constitution.  It  is  governed  by  the  Althing, 
a  legislative  body  composed  of  a  Senate  with  fourteen 
members  and  a  House  of  Representatives  of  twenty-six 
members.  These  forty  members  are  chosen  by  popular 
ballot  and  when  they  assemble  they  choose  the  fourteen 
senators  from  their  own  number.  Until  191 1  six  of  the 
senators  were  appointed  by  the  King  of  Denmark  under 
the  direction  of  the  Icelandic  Governor.  This  virtually 
gave  the  Governor  the  control  of  the  Senate.  This  is 
now  abolished.  This  same  constitutional  amendment 
completely  enfranchises  the  women. 

The  Supreme  Court  is  located  in  Reykjavik  and 
consists  of  two  judges  and  a  Chief  Justice.  Their 
decision  may  be  appealed  to  the  Supreme  Court  of  Den- 
mark. The  King  of  Denmark  has  a  veto  over  the  acts 
of  the  Icelandic  Parliament  but  so  far  it  has  never  been 
exercised.  With  this  exception  and  the  lack  of  the 
power  to  make  treaties,  the  country  is  virtually  an  inde- 
pendent republic  under  a  fair  and  liberal  constitution. 
Some  of  the  progressives  desire  a  step  further  and 
would  entirely  sever  themselves  from  Denmark.  Ow- 
ing to  their  defenseless  condition  and  the  inroads  of 
the  French  and  English  upon  the  fishing  grounds  it  will 
be  wise  to  keep  the  protection  of  Denmark  for  some 
years. 

There  are  several  excellent  buildings  in  the  capital. 
The  more  modern  ones  such  as  the  Thinghiis,  Govern- 
ment Building,  the  Safnahiis,  Library,  are  pleasing  in 


REYKJAVIK  6s 

architecture  and  solid  in  construction.  The  Thmghiis 
is  situated  on  one  side  of  the  public  square  close  to 
the  Cathedral.  Its  interior  is  well  arranged  for  legis- 
lative purposes  and  the  decorations  are  simple,  dignified 
and  relieved  with  slight  ornamentation.  It  contains  many 
good  paintings  by  Danish  masters.  There  is  a  young 
school  of  Icelandic  painting  and  some  of  the  works  are 
in  this  building.  If  Baedeker  were  writing  a  guide  to 
Reykjavik  he  would  double  star  "The  Logberg,"  a  view 
towards  Hengil.  There  are  several  portraits  of  the 
Danish  Kings  and  an  excellent  one  of  Jon  SigurSsson, 
the  man  who  holds  the  same  place  in  the  hearts  of  the 
Icelanders  that  George  Washington  holds  in  ours  and 
for  the  same  reason.  He  is  the  Father  of  modern  Ice- 
land but  he  won  the  constitution  without  bloodshed. 
There  is  a  painting  by  Otto  Bache,  "The  Killing  of 
Thoranin  by  SkarpSin."  Special  notice  should  be  taken 
of  'The  Ride  of  the  Valkyrie"  by  P.  Arbo.  It  is  a 
wonderful  conception  and  is  full  of  action.  Here  also 
is  a  grand  piece  of  wood  carving  made  entirely  with 
a  jackknife  by  an  Icelandic  farmer  as  a  memorial  to 
Jon  Sigurftsson.  It  is  in  the  form  of  a  frame  to  a 
pier  glass  and  a  pier  stand.  It  is  equal  in  design  and 
execution  to  that  famous  carved  pulpit  in  St.  Gudule  at 
Brussells,  which  was  made  by  Verbruggen  in  1669. 
There  is  an  excellent  bronze  of  Jonas  Hallgrimsson 
who  died  in  1845.  0°  leaving  the  Thinghus  the  custo- 
dian gave  us  a  friendly  smile  and  a  cordial  handshake. 
This  treatment  is  refreshing  after  the  customary  re- 
quest for  the  shilling,  the  mark  or  the  franc  as  is  the 
common  experience  elsewhere. 

The  Government  House  which  contains  the  executive 
offices  is  older  and  much  more  simple  in  design.  There 
are  two  banks  in  the  city  and  one  of  them  is  housed 
in  its  own  building,  which  was  the  finest  in  Iceland  until 
the  completion  of  the  Safnahiis. 


66  ICELAND 

This  building  houses  over  80,000  bound  volumes 
besides  6,000  manuscripts,  many  of  them  priceless. 
For  a  city  of  less  than  12,000  people  this  is  a  good  sized 
library.  A  thorough  examination  of  the  bookshelves 
and  the  lists  of  the  book  charges  yields  abundant  evi- 
dence of  the  inborn  aptness  of  this  people  for  education. 
Mind  culture  reaches  a  high  level.  It  is  pleasing  to  an 
American  to  note  Webster's  Unabridged  Dictionary  in 
a  prominent  position  and  a  well  used  set  of  the  works 
of  the  Sage  of  Concord,  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson.  The 
library  contains  a  well  balanced  collection  of  history, 
literature,  science,  philosophy,  poetry  and  economics, 
not  only  in  the  native  language  but  in  all  the  spoken 
tongues  of  Europe.  For  the  benefit  of  those  who  do 
not  read  English  there  are  translations  of  our  master- 
pieces of  drama,  poetry  and  romance.  I  was  pleased 
to  note  the  evidence  of  much  use  of  the  American  class- 
ics and  almost  the  entire  absence  of  that  great  class  of 
light  reading  which  lumbers  our  bookstalls,  follows  us 
on  the  train  and  burdens  the  card  catalogs  of  the  Ameri- 
can libraries. 

The  basement  shelters  the  collections  of  natural  his- 
tory and  that  portion  devoted  to  Icelandic  birds  is  prac- 
tically complete.  The  botanical  collection  is  far  from 
complete  and  awaits  the  labor  of  some  enthusiastic  col- 
lector. I  have  seen  in  an  isolated  home  far  from  the 
influence  of  the  University  a  collection  made  by  a  boy 
that  surpasses  this  one  in  the  National  Library.  The 
collection  of  the  minerals  and  lavas  of  the  country  forms 
a  good  nucleus  and  that  is  all.  It  seems  strange  with 
all  the  opportunities  for  work  that  some  Icelandic 
geologist  does  not  complete  the  work  so  well  begun 
by  Thorvaldur  Thoroddsen.  This  man  has  produced 
an  excellent  geological  map,  as  nearly  complete  as  one 
man  could  possibly  make  it,  considering  the  difficulties 
of  travel  and  the  miscellaneous  character  of  the  lavas. 


The  Ha\  Market  and  the  Harbor  at  Reykjavik. 


An  Odd  Comer  in  Reykjavik. 


REYKJAVIK  67 

Most  of  the  work  on  this  topic  has  been  done  by  Danes 
and  Germans. 

On  the  upper  floor  of  the  Safnahus  there  is  a  large 
and  valuable  collection  of  Icelandic  antiquities.  No 
visitor  to  Iceland,  who  would  get  a  glimpse  of  the 
early  times  in  the  country,  should  miss  this  collection. 
When  he  has  seen  it,  it  will  then  be  necessary  to  go  to 
Copenhagen  to  view  the  remainder.  Many  of  the  finest 
things  were  taken  there  decades  since.  As  a  salve  to  its 
conscience  the  Danish  treasury  pays  annually  to  Iceland 
the  sum  of  $15,600  as  "interest"  on  the  borrowed  treas- 
ures. Among  the  items  of  value  we  enumerate  the 
following, — A  wooden  crucifix  taken  from  a  lava  cave 
and  supposed  to  be  a  Culdee  relic  from  the  days  antedat- 
ing the  settlement  by  the  Norse;  enamelled  and  jewelled 
crucifixes  from  the  thirteenth  century;  many  weapons 
from  the  eleventh  and  twelfth  centuries  such  as  hal- 
berds, bills,  two  handed  swords,  spears  and  daggers; 
female  wearing  apparel  from  many  centuries,  brocaded, 
embroidered  and  variously  adorned  with  filigree  work 
in  silver  and  gold;  snuff  horns  of  ivory  and  "horns" 
for  mead  and  ale  variously  and  richly  carved;  tapestry, 
very  old,  that  would  bring  a  fabulous  price  in  the  great 
museums  of  Europe;  riding  costumes,  bridles,  saddles 
and  a  great  variety  of  wooden  boxes,  bowls  and  foot 
boards  ornately  carved.  Here  also  is  preserved  the 
first  Bible  printed  in  Iceland  bearing  the  date  of  1584. 
It  was  printed  at  Holar  by  Bishop  Gudbrand  Thor- 
laksson  who  translated  it  from  the  German  of  Martin 
Luther  and  carved  with  his  own  hand  most  of  the  blocks 
that  illustrate  it.  This  Bible  was  reprinted  at  Holar  in 
1644  and  the  edition  was  limited  to  1000  copies.  The 
writer  counts  himself  fortunate  to  possess  a  copy  of  this 
ancient  book,  which  was  presented  to  him  by  an  Ice- 
landic friend.  It  is  the  work  of  Bishop  Thorlak  and 
is  translated  directly  from  the  Greek  and  Latin  to  cor- 


68  '  ICELAND 

rect  some  errors  in  Thorlaksson's  translation  from  the 
German.  It  is  the  first  Bible  to  have  the  text  divided 
into  verses. 

The  religion  of  Iceland  is  Lutheran  and  is  connected 
with  the  state.  There  are  three  Bishops  in  the  country, 
the  head  Bishop  is  at  Reykjavik  and  this  man  must  go 
to  Copenhagen  to  be  ordained.  The  Bishop  of  Reyk- 
javik goes  to  Holar  or  to  Skdlholt,  dwelling-ridge,  in 
the  seats  of  the  secondary  Bishops  to  ordain  them  re- 
spectively. At  the  age  of  fourteen  the  children  are  con- 
firmed and  at  that  time  must  possess  a  good  knowledge 
of  reading,  writing,  arithmetic,  geography,  natural  his- 
tory in  general,  Icelandic  history  in  detail  and  general 
history  both  ancient  and  modern.  The  Cathedral  at 
Reykjavik  is  a  very  plain  and  uninteresting  building  and 
would  disappoint  the  stranger  did  he  not  know  that  the 
Icelander  is  unpretentious  in  his  religion.  It  is  the  in- 
ternal and  not  the  external  qualities  that  appeal  to  him. 
The  building  contains  one  of  Thorvaldsen's  master- 
pieces, a  font  which  was  presented  to  the  nation  by  this 
famous  son  of  Iceland.  In  the  square  which  is  close  to 
the  Cathedral  and  the  Thinghus  there  is  a  large  statue 
of  Albert  Thorvaldsen.  It  is  appropriately  mounted 
on  a  stone  pedestal  and  was  the  gift  of  the  people  of 
Copenhagen  at  the  national  celebration  of  1874. 

Denmark  claims  Thorvaldsen  as  her  son.  The  facts 
are  as  follows,  and  the  reader  may  choose  for  himself 
the  country  to  which  he  really  belongs.  His  father  was 
an  Icelander,  a  wood  carver,  his  mother  was  a  Dane, 
the  daughter  of  a  parson.  Albert  Thorvaldsen  was 
born  at  sea  midway  between  Denmark  and  Iceland.  Por- 
celain copies  of  his  Dawn  and  Evening,  bas  reliefs,  are 
set  into  many  tombstones  in  Reykjavik.  The  dead 
white  of  the  porcelain  is  in  fine  contrast  to  the  cold  grey 
of  the  stone.  This  method  of  ornamenting  a  tombstone 
is  unique  and  is  not  without  a  fine  touch  of  sentiment. 


REYKJAVIK  69 

The  University  includes  the  Medical  College,  the 
Theological  Seminary,  the  Law  School  besides  the  Lib- 
eral Arts.  Medical  graduates,  before  taking  up  their 
labors  in  Iceland  must  spend  at  least  six  months  in  clin- 
ical work  in  some  approved  hospital  in  Copenhagen. 
The  reason  is  obvious.  There  are  fifty  doctors  in  the 
employment  of  the  government  and  scattered  through- 
out the  country.  They  are  all  directly  in  charge  of  the 
Surgeon  General.  There  is  little  done  in  science  at 
the  University.  Students  who  wish  to  become  proficient 
in  any  of  its  numerous  branches  must  go  to  the  Universi- 
ties of  Europe.  Within  the  city  there  are  also  a  Com- 
mercial School,  a  Nautical  School  and  a  Female  High 
School  besides  the  Grammar  School  and  the  common 
schools. 

There  are  about  fifteen  newspapers  published  in  the 
city  and  several  magazines.  Most  of  the  papers  are 
weeklies.  Among  these  periodicals  we  note  a  Theologi- 
cal Journal,  an  Agricultural  Paper,  a  Good  Templar 
Journal,  the  "War  Cry"  and  a  Woman  Suffragist 
Journal.  No  mention  is  here  made  of  the  essays,  ro- 
mances, Sagas,  translations  and  poetry  published  in  the 
city.  In  the  bookbinding  establishments  the  work  is 
done  by  hand  and  it  is  efficient.  Honest  work  goes  with 
every  stitch. 

There  are  two  comfortable  hotels  in  the  city  and  sev- 
eral small  boarding  houses.  Hotel  Island  is  a  temper- 
ance house  and  is  kept  by  a  group  of  Good  Templars. 
Hotel  Reykjavik,  which  is  more  modern,  supplies 
liquors.  In  1909  a  law  was  passed  which  forbids  the 
importation  of  any  liquors  after  19 12  and  prohibits  the 
sale  of  all  alcholic  beverages  after  19 15.  This  is  the 
work  of  the  Good  Templars  and  the  anti-prohibitionists 
are  trying  to  get  it  repealed  before  19 15.  The  service 
at  the  hotels  is  excellent  and  one  dines  to  the  accompani- 
ment of  the  minor  music  of  Iceland  by  an  orchestra. 


7o  ICELAND 

The  table  surely  does  not  lack  variety  and  abundance  is 
the  rule.  The  bill  of  fare  is  after  the  Danish  mode. 
One  may  choose  from  at  least  a  dozen  different  dishes 
of  meats  and  cured  fish  at  breakfast  and  supper. 
Smoked  salmon,  eaten  without  further  cooking,  pickled 
fish  with  raw  onion,  anchovies,  sardines,  smoked  her- 
ring, the  breast  of  goose  smoked  and  pressed  with  spices, 
duck  eggs  in  a  variety  of  modes,  rye  bread  and  coffee, 
the  finest  brew  in  the  world,  are  among  the  appetizers 
with  which  one  breaks  his  fast  at  ten  in  the  morning. 
About  two  in  the  afternoon  there  is  a  real  dinner.  It 
is  prefaced  with  a  sweet  soup  of  a  purple  hue  and  sur- 
prisingly palatable,  then  comes  fish  cooked  to  perfec- 
tion, vegetables  and  a  roast,  usually  mutton  or  veal,  and 
a  delicious  dessert.  The  coffee  is  taken  in  the  recep- 
tion room  or  in  the  smoking  parlor  as  one  chooses. 
Oatmeal  may  be  procured  at  the  hotels  by  asking  be- 
fore hand  to  have  "porridge"  cooked.  In  all  my  wand- 
erings through  the  country  I  never  found  it  except  at 
one  farm.  The  supper  at  seven  is  a  repetition  of  the 
breakfast.  Coffee  and  cakes  may  be  had  at  any  time 
at  a  moment's  notice.  Coffee  is  also  brought  to  the 
room  about  seven  in  the  morning.  This  with  rusks  is 
taken  in  bed  and  one  is  supposed  to  take  the  "coffee  nap" 
afterwards. 

Reykjavik  is  the  commercial  metropolis  and  the 
larger  industries  center  here,  although  Akureyri  is  the 
clearing  house  for  the  north  coast.  These  arc  the  cent- 
ers for  exporting  the  fish,  mutton,  butter,  wool,  skins, 
etc.  Nearly  all  the  handicrafts  are  represented  in  the 
capital.  There  is  a  woolen  mill  where  vadmal,  an  Ice- 
landic cloth,  is  woven,  a  sawmill  dresses  the  crude  lum- 
ber brought  from  Norway.  There  are  several  silver- 
smiths who  equal  the  artists  of  Europe  in  delicate  en- 
graving and  in  filigree  as  well  as  enamelling.  One  man 
has  discovered  a  process,  which  he  wisely  keeps  secret, 


REYKJAVIK  71 

for  coloring  the  precious  metals. 

The  foreign  Consuls  resident  in  Reykjavik  are  only 
two,  one  from  France  and  the  other  from  Norway. 
The  following  countries  are  represented  through  Ice- 
landers who  are  appointed  by  the  foreign  governments, 
England,  Germany,  Sweden,  Belgium  and  Holland. 
The  United  States  has  no  representation  whatever. 

The  Thorvaldsen  Bazar  is  an  attractive  place,  verg- 
ing upon  a  museum  of  antiquities.  It  is  cooperative 
and  the  proceeds  go  to  a  charity.  It  is  conducted  by 
groups  of  ladies  who  give  their  time.  Many  women 
on  the  farms  knit  stockings,  mittens,  gloves,  make  skin 
shoes,  embroidery  in  linen  and  send  the  items  to  the 
bazar  to  be  sold  on  commission.  There  are  also  ex- 
posed for  sale  stuffed  birds,  minerals,  odd  items  such  as 
footboards,  horn  spoons,  snuff  horns,  skyr  bowls  and  a 
great  variety  of  other  items  that  have  long  been  hoarded 
by  familes  in  the  interior.  Some  of  the  carved  pieces 
of  wood  are  of  great  age  and  the  carving  is  artistically 
done.  The  foot  board  is  of  interest  and  as  reference  to 
it  will  be  made  later  in  connection  with  the  homes  of  the 
people  I  will  describe  the  one  which  now  adorns  my 
guest  room  wall.  It  is  made  of  Norway  spruce,  four 
feet  long  and  seven  inches  wide.  It  is  ornately  carved 
on  both  sides.  On  one  side  there  are  three  circles  five 
and  one  half  inches  in  diameter,  one  at  each  end  and 
one  in  the  middle.  The  circles  are  cut  to  represent 
Balder 's  bra,  a  marguerite,  w7hich  blooms  abundantly 
throughout  the  country  near  the  coast.  The  central 
circle  shows  only  the  ends  of  the  numerous  petals  while 
the  center  of  the  circle  is  used  for  engraving  the  name 
and  the  date,  1868.  Between  the  two  circles  at  either 
side  of  the  center  a  prayer  is  carved  in  the  Ogam  rune. 
On  the  reverse  side  there  is  a  series  of  six  prows  ol 
the  Viking  ship.  The  design  of  the  prow  of  the  an- 
cient ship  lends  itself  well  to  the  wood  carver  and  it 


72  ICELAND 

appears  in  a  variety  of  forms  on  the  ancient  as  well  as 
the  modern  pieces.  There  is  an  expert  wood  carver 
in  Reykjavik  and  it  is  well  worth  while  to  visit  Stefan 
Eiriksson  in  his  workshop.  I  have  before  me  a  skyr 
dskr,  bowl  for  curds.  In  old  times  each  person  had 
his  own  dskr  which  he  carved  to  suit  his  fancy.  This 
one  is  completely  covered  with  fine  carving.  The  han- 
dles represent  dragons  and  to  the  back  of  one  with  a 
wooden  hinge  is  attached  the  cover.  The  center  of  the 
cover  is  carved  to  represent  Bauer's  bra.  It  is  a  beau- 
tiful piece  of  work  and  is  carved  out  of  a  solid  piece  of 
the  Iceland  birch. 

There  are  several  good  photographers  in  the  city  and 
one  of  them,  M.  Olafsson,  has  made  excellent  stereo- 
scopic views  of  the  natural  wonders  of  Iceland.  He 
has  travelled  over  most  of  the  country  to  obtain  the 
negatives  and  he  made  his  own  stereoscopic  camera  as 
well  as  the  different  cameras  in  his  studio.  There  are 
several  shops  where  good  photographs  may  be  ob- 
tained. The  city  has  an  excellent  public  bath  with 
steam,  shower,  hot  and  cold  water.  There  are  two 
hospitals,  Chemist's  shops,  (drug  stores),  barbers,  in 
fact  every  thing  required  in  civilized  life. 

We  know  so  little  of  Iceland.  Its  very  name  suggest 
all  the  cold  and  inhospitable  conditions  of  the  north 
and  the  stranger  unread  in  Icelandic  conditions  has 
many  a  surprise  in  store.  The  worst  thing  I  know 
about  Iceland  is  its  name.  It  should  have  been  chris- 
tened Fireland. 

The  climate  of  Iceland  is  exceedingly  mild  in  winter 
and  in  the  summer  it  never  gets  very  warm.  The  an- 
nual mean  temperature  of  the  extreme  north  is  about 
2°C.  lower  than  in  the  south.  The  climate  changes 
very  little  with  the  latitude  but  more  with  the  glaciers, 
the  coast  and  the  solfataras.  The  following  table,  com- 
piled from  the  Meteorological  Records  at  BerufjorcJr, 


The  Latin  School  at  Reykjavik. 


•  i 


1  r  II  i  - 


im  tm  ■- 


C\     A     /V 

11  II  I 


The   ThinghuSy   Parliament   Buildingt   Reykjavik. 


REYKJAVIK  73 

will  convey  a  good  idea  of  the  conditions  in  the  country. 
This  table  covers  twenty-jive  years  for  the  Max.  and 
Min.  temperatures.  The  station  is  in  Long.  140  15' 
W.,  Lat.  640  4c/  N.  and  it  is  55  feet  above  the  sea. 
The  temperatures  are  given  in  degrees  Centigrade. 


Max. 


Min.- 


Slect. 


Snow. 


I 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6th  Mo. 

10.5 

12.3 

12. 1 

H-3 

20.4 

25.4  C. 

7 

8 

9 

10 

1 1 

1 2th  Mo. 

26.3 

20.7 

20.5 

16.4 

11. 7 

11. 5  C. 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6th  Mo. 

-23.1 

—19-3 

— 21.9 

—18.3 

-8.5 

— 4.2  C. 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

1 2th  Mo. 

0.8 

—2.9 

-5.8 

—10.3  - 

-17.4  - 

—20.4  C. 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6th  Mo. 

O.I 

0.5 

0.0 

0.1 

0.0 

0.0  Days. 

7 

8 

9 

10 

1 1 

1 2th  Mo. 

0.0 

0.0 

0.0 

0.0 

0.2 

0. 1   Days. 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6th  Mo. 

9- 

8. 

9- 

5. 

4- 

1.  Days. 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

1 2th  Mo. 

0.0 

0.0 

1.0 

3.o 

6.0 

8.0  Days. 

1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6th  Mo. 

17.0 

17.0 

16.0 

14.00 

13.0 

1 1 .0  Days. 

7 

8 

9 

10 

11 

1 2th  Mo. 

11.0 

12.0 

15.0 

16.0 

17.0 

18.0  Days. 

Rain. 


When  we  recall  that  zero  on  the  Centigrade  thermo- 
meter is  the  freezing  point  these  figures  will  correct  our 
erroneous  ideas  of  the  extreme  low  temperatures  which 
we  have  ever  associated  with  Iceland.  The  lowest 
temperature  in  twenty-five  years  at  this  station  was 
only  nine  and  one  half  degrees  below  zero  on  the 
Fahrenheit  scale.  During  the  summer  of  19 10  I  travel- 
led in  the  north  and  crossed  the  country  in  the  vicinity 
of  the  western  glaciers  and  the  lowest  temperature  re- 
corded during  six  weeks  was  32°F.  in  a  mountain  pass 
in  the  north  and  the  highest  was  56°F.  the  mean  for 
the  entire  time  was  44° F.  All  these  temperatures 
were  taken  in  the  shade  at  7  A.  M.,  Noon  and  9  P.  M. 


74  ICELAND 

At  the  summer  solstice  the  midnight  sun  is  just  visi- 
ble in  the  south  and  at  longer  periods  in  the  north  on 
the  table  lands.  Even  after  the  sun  has  set,  it  is  a* 
light  as  day  and  one  can  read  at  midnight  in  the  houses 
during  several  weeks. 

In  a  country  so  diversified  with  sea,  glaciers,  naked 
volcanoes,  uplands  and  rivers  the  sunsets  are  glorious. 
Many  nights  have  I  climbed  the  hill  back  of  the  city 
at  eleven  to  watch  the  sunset  and  to  be  present  at  the 
ushering  in  of  the  dawn.  Below  me  lay  the  dreaming 
city  with  here  and  there  a  strolling  couple  by  the  water- 
side. South  and  east  the  scattered  peaks  of  the  Fire 
Peninsula,  though  twenty  miles  distant  they  seemed  in 
the  clear  atmosphere  to  be  near  at  hand  and  the  purple 
perfect  cone  of  Keilir,  Tusk,  stood  apart,  a  guardian  of 
the  fire  group  beyond.  Behind  me  stretched  the  long 
and  precipitous  table  land  of  Esja,  its  slopes  scarred 
and  ragged  and  the  patches  of  pale  green  sphagnum 
marking  the  location  of  the  water  pockets  in  the  debris. 
It  was  crowned  with  a  heavy  cap  of  ice  and  the  flutter- 
ing folds  of  fog  hung  over  it  like  the  bridal  veil  of 
an  Icelandic  maid.  To  the  west  and  north  is  spread 
the  broad  and  glimmering  bay  of  Faxa  while  sixty  miles 
beyond,  though  appearing  less  than  half  that  distance, 
Snaefells  Jokidl  at  the  head  of  its  regiment  of  volcanic 
cones  towers  from  the  sea. 

It  is  midnight,  local  time.  The  sun  has  been  in 
his  ocean  bath  for  thirty  minutes  and  in  an  equal 
length  of  time  he  will  emerge  near  by  the  locality  of 
his  plunge.  It  is  an  entrancing  scene  and  recalls  the 
Twilight  of  the  Gods.  The  heavens  are  overcast  with 
a  rose-flesh  hue  of  varying  tones.  No  stars  dot  the 
bending  dome,  no  moon  skirts  the  far  horizon.  The 
Faxa  is  like  a  molten  sea  of  precious  metal  and  across 
it  roll  billows  of  purple  light  which  striking  the  base  of 
Keilir,  surge  to  its  pointed  summit  in  waves  of  lighter 


REYKJAVIK  75 

hue  to  break  in  confusion  on  the  distant  volcanoes. 
Esja  catches  the  color  of  the  sky,  its  dripping  parapet 
glistens  as  at  noon  and  its  ice  mantle  is  transformed 
into  rosy  quartz.  The  crowning  glory  of  the  moment 
is  Snaefells.  Behind  it  is  the  sun.  A  broad  streamer 
rises  vertically  to  the  zenith  from  behind  the  mountain. 
It  splits  the  warmer  shades  with  a  band  of  saffron.  It 
spreads  outward  like  an  opening  fan.  Snaefells  is  the 
jewel  in  the  end  of  the  fan  handle.  The  fan  unfolds 
until  a  full  quadrant  of  the  heavens  have  turned  to 
gold  with  radiating  streaks  of  crimson.  The  ice-cap 
has  become  a  ruby  and  Esja  a  fiery  opal.  Kaleido- 
scopic is  the  change.  Like  the  Borealis  the  colors 
come  and  go,  the  mists  open  and  close  and  the  tints 
deepen.  Esja  lives  doubly  in  the  bosom  of  the  fiord 
within  whose  shadow  the  fishing  fleet  rock  gently  at 
their  moorings.  Even  the  ribbons  of  mist  are  imaged 
in  the  sea  and  in  those  vast  depths  drift  softly  like  the 
real  ones  of  the  upper  air.  The  cone  of  Keilir  brightens, 
the  slumbering  tints  burst  into  fire,  the  fire  resolves  it- 
self into  white  light.  The  sun  has  risen  from  its  mid- 
night bath,  morning  has  come  and  I  seek  the  hotel  con- 
scious that  neither  pen  nor  brush  can  catch  the  true 
values  of  this  great  harmony  of  colors,  that  it  is  impos- 
sible to  set  it  to  meter  or  spread  it  upon  the  canvas. 
But  it  lives  indelibly  in  the  soul  of  the  poet,  the  painter 
and  the  musician.     Yes  it  is  music,  a  great  symphony, — 

"It   is  passion   that  left   the   ground 
To  loose  itself  in  the  sky." 


CHAPTER  VII 

THINGVELLIR 

"Land  of  lost  gods  and  godlike  men,  art  thou  ! 
Thy  vales  of  evergreen,  thy  hills  of  snow, 
Proclaim  thee  Nature's  varied  favorite  now." 

— Byron. 

WE  had  expected  to  start  on  our  tour  through 
the  south  of  Iceland  at  eight  in  the  morn- 
ing. It  was  ten  when  we  left  the  en- 
closure where  the  ponies  were  saddled 
and  the  pack  horses  laden.  There  were  eight 
ponies  in  the  troup,  two  pack  ponies,  two  riding  ponies 
for  each  of  us  and  two  for  the  guide.  If  the  riding  is 
easy  the  ridden  ponies  are  changed  midway  of  the  days 
ride.  If  the  road  is  difficult  the  ponies  are  changed 
twice.  Our  guide  was  Johannes  Zoega,  the  uncle  of 
Helgi.  He  was  nearly  seventy  years  of  age  and  as 
spry  as  a  youth  of  twenty.  Since  he  was  fifteen  he  had 
followed  the  trails  and  he  knew  every  path  we  crossed. 
Never  was  he  in  doubt  in  the  network  of  trails  on  the 
moors  or  in  the  valleys  but  rode  rapidly  ahead  at  the 
crossings  and  turned  the  leading  pony  into  the  right 
path.  Johannes  was  fully  six  feet  tall  and  his  favorite 
pony  was  the  smallest  in  the  string.  On  rough  ground  or 
in  the  deep  ruts,  it  was  amusing  to  watch  his  attempts 
to  keep  his  feet  off  the  ground.  He  spoke  English 
quite  well  and  understood  it  better  than  he  spoke  it.  He 
was  a  thorough  gentleman,  waited  upon  us  unceasingly 
and  made  our  trip  most  enjoyable. 

When  I  saw  the  ponies  which  were  to  carry  us  over 
so  many  miles  of  rough  country,  up  the  lower  slopes 
of  lava-blistered  Hekla  and  across  the  bridgeless  rivers, 
1  thought  that  the  diminutive  beasts  would  not  be  able 

76 


THINGVELLIR  77 

to  do  the  work.  I  felt  ashamed  to  ask  the  little  fel- 
lows to  carry  my  hundred  and  eighty  pounds.  I  men- 
tioned the  matter  to  Mr.  Zoega.  He  smiled  and  said 
they  would  do  the  work  required  of  them  in  an  en- 
tirely satisfactory  manner.  They  did.  It  was  our  first 
experience  in  the  saddle,  nor  had  I  been  on  a  horse  since, 
as  a  small  boy,  I  was  accustomed  to  ride  bare-back  to 
a  mountain  pasture  in  New  Hampshire  to  salt  and 
count  the  sheep.  It  proved  to  be  just  as  well,  for  no 
matter  what  may  be  one's  horsemanship  in  other  lands 
and  on  other  steeds,  with  the  Icelandic  hestr  condi- 
tions are  different  and  one  must  first  put  aside  his  ac- 
quired ideas  of  horsemanship  and  be  governed  by  new 
conditions  and  experiences. 

Johannes  tied  the  five  loose  ponies  together  with  a 
string  that  seemed  ludicrously  inadequate.  It  is  cus- 
tomary in  passing  through  a  village  to  tie  a  small  cord 
around  the  under  jaw  of  a  pony  and  fasten  the  other 
end  of  this  cord  to  a  knot  in  the  tail  of  the  next  pony. 
We  started  into  the  main  street  and  turned  towards 
Thingvellir,  Valley-of-the-Parliament,  with  Johannes 
in  the  lead  with  the  five  ponies.  He  soon  had  them 
all  in  a  trot  but  do  our  best  our  ponies  would  only 
walk  and  then  on  the  side  of  the  street  that  seemed 
to  please  them  best.  It  was  an  uncomfortable  experi- 
ence, this  first  exhibition  of  horsemanship  on  the  main 
thoroughfare  in  the  busiest  portion  of  the  day  with  the 
people  leaving  their  work  or  running  to  the  doorways 
to  watch  the  Americans.  Possibly  it  was  our  strange 
costumes,  made  for  the  occasion,  which  attracted  their 
attention  as  these  never  failed  to  do  in  the  interior. 
We  were  pleased  to  think  of  it  this  way.  After  half  a 
mile  of  this  aimless  walking  we  caught  up  with  the 
guide  who  was  waiting,  as  he  said, — 

"It  is  not  good  for  guide  to  let  parrv  get  out  of 
sight." 


7  8  ICELAND 

He  straightened  out  his  tangled  string  of  ponies  and 
with  a  sharp  "hot — hot"  was  away  at  a  smart  pace. 
Hot — hot,  hot — hot!  I  shouted,  in  this  my  first  Ice- 
landic, and  I  said  it  so  vigorously  and  with  so  many 
different  accents  that  I  must  have  got  it  right  once,  for 
away  we  went  in  good  fashion  and  held  our  own  at  the 
heels  of  the  train  till  we  reached  the  Ellifiadr,  Ship- 
River.  This  is  three  miles  out  of  the  city  and  a  famous 
salmon  river  the  rights  to  which  are  annually  purchased 
by  a  group  of  English  sportsmen. 

We  stopped  to  rest  the  ponies.  This  is  frequently 
necessary,  especially  when  first  starting  on  a  long  trip 
and  always  in  the  morning.  Better  accustomed  to  the 
saddle  we  rode  on  with  much  enjoyment  of  the  novelty 
and  with  exhilaration,  little  thinking  what  those  sad- 
dles had  in  store  for  us  before  that  day's  ride  came  to 
a  close.  Somewhere  along  this  portion  of  the  route  I 
lost  my  riding  belt.  Deciding  to  do  without  it  I  re- 
frained from  returning  in  search.  Three  weeks  later 
this  belt  was  handed  to  us  one  evening,  it  having  been 
sent  on  from  farm  to  farm.  Twelve  miles  out  from 
Reykjavik  we  came  to  the  last  inhabited  dwelling  we 
were  to  see  before  night.  It  is  at  the  branching  ot 
the  post  road  from  the  ThingveUir  road.  It  is  a  place 
for  light  refreshments,  much  resorted  to  on  Sundays 
and  holidays  by  the  young  people  out  riding.  The 
ponies  were  turned  into  the  little  compound  provided 
for  that  purpose  and  we  entered  and  partook  of  milk, 
excellent  coffee  and  cakes.  Over  a  year  later,  on  our 
way  down  from  the  north  coast,  we  called  at  this  same 
place  and  this  time  we  rode  into  the  yard  in  true  Ice- 
landic style.  No  matter  how  careful  the  Icelander  is 
of  his  pony,  and  he  favors  him  all  he  can,  it  is  a  matter 
of  pride  to  enter  a  village  or  ride  up  to  a  lonely  farm 
at  a   keen  gallop.     As  my  last  guide,  Clafur  said, — 


THINGVELLIR  79 

"With  reins  tight  and  head  up."  To  tighten  the  reins 
on  an  Icelandic  pony  is  to  put  him  into  a  gallop. 

We  were  now  ascending  the  divide.  Every  kilome- 
ter, (the  frequently  travelled  routes  have  a  stone 
marker  placed  every  five  kilometers),  brought  us  to 
higher  ground,  with  an  ever  increasing  view.  Look- 
ing backward,  as  the  ponies  climbed  the  steep  gradient, 
we  caught  many  glimpses  of  the  smiling  Faxafjord*'. 
The  ice  crown  of  Snaefells  Jokidl  loomed  larger  though 
we  were  going  from  it.  Several  small  lakes,  of  glacier 
origin,  nestle  in  the  vales  to  the  north  marked  with  a 
ring  of  verdant  grass  about  them.  The  country  through 
which  we  are  passing  is  mostly  devoid  of  grass  and  it 
is  difficult  to  find  sufficient  feed  for  the  ponies  and  we 
regulate  our  stops  accordingly.  This  is  a  desolate, 
dreary  country,  piled  with  blocks  of  frost-riven  lava 
which  time  has  graciously  covered  with  a  mantle  of 
lichens.  The  whimbrels  made  their  appearance  and 
stayed  with  us  throughout  the  summer  whenever  we 
rode  the  heather.  They  are  noisy  birds,  swooping  over- 
head uttering  their  prolonged  calls,  or  running  along  the 
trail  ahead  of  the  ponies  and  then  perching  upon  a 
lichen-encrusted  rock  to  be  lost  to  view  except  to  the 
close  observer.  Their  colors  blend  perfectly  with  their 
surroundings.  Of  all  the  curios  which  we  brought  back 
from  Iceland  nothing  reminds  us  more  of  our  journevs 
than  the  long-billed  whimbrel  which  is  perched  above 
our  bookcases. 

The  snow-capped  peaks  of  Esja  stand  out  in  bold  re- 
lief, directly  in  front  rises  the  dome  of  Skdlafell,  Hall- 
Mountain,  to  the  right  in  the  distance,  we  catch  glimp- 
ses of  the  mountain  summits  at  the  southern  end  of 
Thingvallavatn ,  Lake-in-the-Valley-of-the-Parliament, 
which  loom  higher  and  higher  as  we  climb  the  ridge. 
While  in  the  midst  of  our  contemplation  of  the  scenery, 
the  packs  on  one  of  the  ponies  loosened,  the  swinging 


So  ICELAND 

boxes  startled  him  into  a  frightened  gallop  which  he 
maintained  across  the  heath  till  he  had  freed  himself 
of  all  the  burden.  After  some  time  the  debris  was  col- 
lected and  there  being  a  patch  of  good  grass  here,  we 
stopped  to  rest  the  ponies,  repair  the  damage  and  take 
our  first  lunch  in  the  open.  Saddles  and  bridles  were 
thrown  off,  the  cases  opened  and  we  sat  down  to  a  can- 
ned lunch  with  hunger  for  the  sauce.  The  opened  lid 
of  the  packing  box  makes  an  excellent  table. 

uIs  this  not  glorious?"  questioned  Mrs.  Russell. 

"Yes,"  I  replied  as  I  shied  my  first  sardine  tin  at  a 
whimbrel.  "This  is  living,  true  enjoyment.  Rain  or 
shine,  we  are  out  for  one  long  holiday  and  it  will  be 
a   glorious  one." 

It  was  a  picture  that  I  should  have  photographed, 
that  first  lunch  upon  the  mountain  slope, — the  ponies 
feeding  around  us  untethered,  the  whimbrels  circling 
closely  above  our  heads,  the  plover  calling  from  the 
heather,  mountains  upon  mountains  all  around,  blue 
with  the  distance  or  white  with  their  perpetual  snow 
mantles,  the  fleecy  clouds  drifting  softly  across  the  blue 
sky, — and  then  those  things  the  camera  can  not  catch, — 
the  comfort  of  the  sprawl  upon  the  blooming  heather, 
the  respite  from  the  galling  saddles,  the  chocolate  for 
those  who  do  not  enjoy  the  pipe  and  the  pipe  for  those 
who  do.  We  began  to  get  acquainted  with  Johannes. 
As  he  filled  his  pipe  with  re?l  American  tobacco  he 
told  us  of  the  many  parties  he  had  guided,  how  the 
English  differed  from  the  Danes,  and  the  Germans  from 
either  of  them  in  their  likes  and  dislikes  of  the  country, 
which  required  the  most  waiting  upon  and  those  who 
seemed  the  most  grateful  for  the  attentions  he  paid. 

"Did  you  ever  act  as  guide  for  Americans  before,"  I 
asked. 

"Before?  Are  you  from  America,  the  United 
States?" 


THINGVELLIR  81 

Wc  assured  him  that  we  had  that  pleasure,  where- 
upon Johannes  continued, 

uDo  you  know  Mr.  *  *  *  and  Mr.  *  *  *? 
No?  Well,  they  were  likely  lads  and  lively  and  we 
had  a  grand  time  upon  our  trip.     See  this  whip?" 

Whereupon  he  displayed  the  peculiar  riding  whip 
of  Iceland.  It  consists  of  a  stock  about  fourteen  inches 
long  heavily  mounted  with  silver  ferules  and  with  a 
large  silver  knob  oval  in  shape  at  the  end.  To  the  end 
of  this  stock  is  attached  a  strap  of  good  leather  three 
feet  long.  It  is  not  so  much  used  to  whip  the  pony  one 
is  riding  as  to  snap  at  the  ponies  that  are  tempted  from 
their  straight  and  narrow  way  by  a  choice  bit  of  grass. 

"When  those  boys  got  back  to  Reykjavik  they  pre- 
sented me  with  this  fine  whip  and  I  have  carried  it 
ever  since." 

Two  years  later  I  was  lecturing  in  New  York  City 
and  chanced  that  night  to  show  on  the  screen  a  slide 
in  which  Johannes  figured.  He  loomed  up  splendidly 
from  his  tiny  steed  and  presented  a  fine  appearance 
with  his  flowing  beard  and  slouched  hat  tipped  to  one 
side  and  with  the  beloved  riding  whip  displayed  in 
characteristic  fashion.  At  the  close  of  the  lecture  a 
gentleman  approached  me  and  asked, 

uDid  you  have  Johannes  Zoega  for  your  guide?  I 
thought  I  recognized  him  in  one  of  the  pictures. " 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "he  was  our  guide  during  our  first 
trip  in  the  country." 

"He  was  my  guide  and  I  presented  him  with  that 
whip." 

The  world  is  not  so  large  after  all. 

Johannes  then  turned  to  Mrs.  Russell  and  asked, 

"What  shall  I  call  you?  Your  man's  name  is  Rus- 
sell shall  I  call  you  'madam'  or  what?" 

She  replied,  "You  may  call  me  'madam'  or  'Mrs.  Rus- 
sell,' whichever  you  choose." 


82  ICELAND 

"What,"  replied  Johannes,"  your  name  Russell  and 
your  Man's  name  the  same?  Two  people,  man  and 
wife,  and  same  name?" 

We  then  informed  him  that  in  the  United  States 
when  a  woman  married  she  dropped  her  maiden  name, 
or  substituted  it  for  her  middle  name  and  assumed  the 
surname  of  her  husband.  This  was  difficult  for  Jo- 
hannes to  understand,  inasmuch  as  in  Iceland  a  woman 
always  keeps  her  maiden  name,  even  after  marriage. 
A  woman  is  named  thus,  Sigurdur  Eiricksdottir,  or, 
Johanna  Stefdnsdottir,  and  she  is  always  called  the 
"daughter  of  her  father."  Likewise  a  man  is  the  "son 
of  his  father"  and  is  named  accordingly.  Thus,  Stefan 
Kristofersson,  or,  Bjorn  Eyvindsson,  Bjorn  the  son  of 
Eyvind.  Now  when  this  "son"  comes  to  have  a  son 
and  wishes  to  name  him  he  may  choose  any  Christian 
name  he  pleases  but  he  must  be  "his  son."  Thus  if 
Bjorn  Eyvindson  were  to  name  his  son  he  might  call 
him  Geir,  Helgi,  61afur,  etc.,  but  the  patronymic  would 
be  dropped  and  he  would  be  called  Bjornsson.  Olafur 
Bjornsson  would  be  the  son  of  Bjorn  Eyvindsson. 

When  we  were  through  with  our  discussion  of 
nomenclature  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  have  told 
which  party  was  the  more  mystified. 

The  pack  saddles  were  replaced,  the  fresh  ponies 
saddled  and  we  started  upon  the  second  stage  of  the 
day's  journey.  Soon  we  mounted  to  the  top  of  the  ridge 
which  is  1,100  feet  above  the  sea.  Near  the  sixth  kilo- 
meter stone,  about  eighteen  miles,  we  came  to  the  Saelu- 
hus,  fortunate-house,  an  unoccupied  hospice  in  the  des- 
erts and  mountains  for  the  refuge  of  travellers  who  may 
be  unexpectedly  overtaken  by  a  storm,  especially  in 
winter  when  the  snow  is  fiercely  driven  across  the  moors. 
To  cross  in  the  blinding  storm  is  to  invite  death.  This 
one  is  a  small  stone  structure.  During  our  following 
summer  we  found  several  of  these  and  in  one  of  them 


THINGVELLIR  83 

we  were  glad  to  take  refuge. 

This  is  the  Mossfellsheidi,  Moss-Mountain-Heath, 
the  undisturbed  home  of  the  whimbrel  and  the  golden 
plover.  Before  the  road  was  built  to  Thingvellir  there 
were  a  few  scattering  cairns  to  guide  the  traveller. 
There  are  at  present  many  lofty  cairns  beside  the  way 
so  that  even  in  the  drifting  snow  the  traveller  may  find 
his  way  in  winter.  In  the  nearer  view  there  is  nothing 
but  the  barren  land,  the  gray  monotony  of  the  moor  and 
the  eye  of  the  traveller  is  held  by  the  glories  of  the  dis- 
tant mountains. 

The  change  of  ponies  was  no  doubt  beneficial  to  those 
we  had  ridden  in  the  morning  and  they  trotted  ahead 
with  every  sign  of  contentment,  however,  it  brought 
no  relief  to  the  novices  in  the  saddle.  We  were  too 
weary  to  put  the  fresh  mounts  to  a  gallop  and  the  jog, 
jog,  jog  on  the  hard  road  with  the  resulting  thump, 
thump,  thump  on  the  saddle  slightly  damped  the  ardor 
of  the  first  portion  of  the  ride.  We  had  just  read  Hall 
Caine's  Bondman  and  named  our  first  relay  of  steeds 
after  the  two  chief  characters  in  that  volume,  Michael 
Sunlocks  and  Greba.  My  hestr,  Michael  Sunlocks,  was 
a  light  chestnut  with  heavy  forelocks,  mane  and  tail  of 
a  beautiful  silvery  whiteness,  the  forelocks  would  have 
blinded  him  had  they  not  been  carefully  fastened  to 
the  bridle,  the  mane  reached  to  his  knees  and  his  heavy 
tail  swept  the  ground.  He  was  plump  and  mettlesome. 
To  describe  an  Icelandic  hestr,  saddle  horse,  as  fat 
is  not  describing  him  at  all.  I  have  never  seen  one  in 
poor  condition.  Greba  was  a  deep  bay  mare  of  gentle 
spirit.  They  proved  to  be  personifications  of  those  two 
characters  in  the  Bondman.  What  did  it  matter  to  us 
if  Johannes  called  them  by  unpronouncable  names?  To 
us  they  were  ever  Michael  and  Greba,  and  they  came 
to  know  their  new  names.  Now  it  happens  that  the 
Bondman  is  founded  upon  the  attempt  of  a  renegade 


84  ICELAND 

Dane,  Jorgen  Jorgensen  by  name,  to  produce  a  revolu- 
tion in  Iceland  in  1809.  Here  then  was  an  appropriate 
name  for  my  second  mount  and  Jog  Jogensen  he  was 
christened.  He  was  a  fiery  little  beast  with  plenty  of 
grit  as  I  found  out  after  I  had  really  learned  to  ride 
a  hestr. 

A  chaming  landscape  burst  suddenly  into  view.  The 
largest  of  Icelandic  lakes,  [Thingvallavatn,  is  spread 
like  a  mirror  below  the  bluffs.  Its  forty  square  miles 
of  water  are  enclosed  with  scenic,  basaltic  headlands, 
its  surface  broken  only  by  two  islands,  small  and  ex- 
tinct craters.  We  saw  it  at  its  best.  Long  bands  of 
pearly  cloud  lay  athwart  the  mountain  range  while 
cloud  and  mountain  cone  lived  doubly  in  the  emerald 
green.  Our  weary  spirits  rose  the  more  we  advanced, 
most  of  the  monotonous  moorland  stretched  in  gray 
billows  behind  us,  and  the  discomfort  of  the  saddle 
was  momentarily  forgotten.  When  it  seemed  that  we 
were  going  directly  to  the  shore  of  the  lake  the  road 
took  a  sharp  bend  to  the  left  and  we  descended  a  gulley 
to  a  big  brook.  We  scorned  the  iron  bridge  and  turned 
the  ponies  into  the  stream  to  quench  their  thirst.  The 
water  being  low,  we  forded. 

At  six  P.  M.  we  turned  from  the  highway  into  the 
turf-walled  lane  leading  up  to  the  farm  called  Kdras- 
tadir,  literally,  the-farm-of-sickness.  Why  it  was  thus 
named  is  evident  in  the  name  but  that  was  many  cen- 
turies since.  It  must  be  remembered  that  the  names  of 
the  farms  and  all  the  place-names  are  the  same  today 
as  they  were  christened  a  thousand  or  more  years  ago. 
Every  place  in  Iceland  was  most  appropriately  named. 

Kdrastadir  is  a  pleasant  farm  located  besides  a  noisy 
brook  on  the  upland  slope  of  the  lakeshore.  It  is  ap- 
proached between  parallel  walls  of  turf.  These  turf 
walls  also  enclose  the  ///;/,  the  mowing  land,  or  the  home 
field.     They  are  made  of  turf  cut  in  long  thick  strips 


THING  VELLIR  85 

and  placed  in  layers.  The  walls  are  about  three  feet 
thick  on  the  ground  and  narrow  to  half  that  width  at 
the  top.  Grass  grows  luxuriantly  all  over  them  and 
they  are  often  ornamented  with  a  free  sprinkling  of 
wild  flowers.  I  know  of  no  hedgerow  in  England 
or  country  lane  in  America  half  so  beautiful  as  many 
of  these  approaches  to  an  Icelandic  farm  house.  Hedge 
clippers,  boards  and  concrete  do  not  make  for  true 
beauty.  These  walls  become  a  portion  of  the  ground, 
permanent  affairs  that  do  not  need  attention  and  stand 
for  centuries.  The  Icelandic  farmer  can  show  the  New 
England  Yankee  how  to  build  a  fence,  but  then  he  has 
the  material  in  the  toughest  of  turf.  A  fence  in  New 
England  built  of  native  sods  would  not  endure  as  long 
as  the  frail  brush  fences  of  our  hillside  pastures.  At 
the  far  end  of  the  lane  stands  the  hus.  This  term 
refers  not  only  to  the  actual  dwelling  but  to  all  the 
buildings  within  the  enclosure  whether  for  man  or 
beast.  This  turf  wall  runs  around  the  buildings  so  as 
to  make  an  inner  plot  where  no  entrance  to  the  mowing 
lands  can  be  obtained  by  the  live  stock. 

On  dismounting  we  were  cordially  received.  Our 
ponies  were  unladen  and  taken  to  the  pasture  by  a  boy. 
The  house  maids, — a  proper  distinction  for  there  are 
house-maids  and  farm-maids  with  corresponding  duties, 
— busied  themselves  in  preparing  the  guest  room  and 
the  tiny  bedroom  leading  out  of  it  for  our  accommoda- 
tion. In  a  short  time  the  table  was  spread  with  rye 
bread,  unsalted  butter,  cheese,  broiled  char,  a  species  of 
trout  from  the  lake,  warm  milk  and  boiled  eggs.  To 
this  repast  we  did  ample  justice.  Then  followed  a 
pot  of  excellent  coffee  and  a  platter  laden  with  a  variety 
of  dainty  cakes.  This  is  one  of  the  better  class  of  Ice- 
landic farms.  We  were  still  on  the  great  highwav  of 
Iceland  and  under  the  influence  of  the  capital  city.  The 
house  had  wood  floors,  Norway  spruce,  polished  and 


86  ICELAND 

aged  to  a  beautiful  seal-brown  and  spotlessly  clean.  We 
took  our  packing  boxes  into  our  bedroom  as  was  our 
custom  until  we  became  better  acquainted  with  the 
character  of  the  people.  The  bedroom  was  eleven  feet 
by  five.  In  it  was  a  small  table,  washstand,  three  chairs, 
four  packing  cases  and  two  beds.  When  the  heavy  rid- 
ing boots  were  removed  there  was  not  much  room  left 
in  which  to  turn.  The  outer  room  contained  a  small 
dining  table,  an  organ,  several  chairs  and  many  orna- 
ments of  local  interest  in  the  shape  of  pictures.  Every 
Icelandic  home,  no  matter  how  humble,  has  its  photo- 
graph album,  long  since  filled  and  the  overflow  is 
spread  upon  the  wall. 

Supper  over,  I  visited  the  out-buildings,  which  are 
entirely  of  stone  and  turf,  except  the  roof  contains 
timber  to  give  the  necessary  support  for  the  brush  and 
turf.  Near  the  coast  and  in  the  north  this  timber 
is  obtained  from  the  Arctic  driftwood  and  I  have  seen 
many  a  stick  of  Siberian  larch  that  has  undoubtedly 
drifted  over  the  polar  area  and  lodged  upon  this  coast. 
Thus  does  nature  provide  an  abundance  of  building  ma- 
terial in  a  land  where  no  timber  grows.  I  examined 
the  haying  implements  with  considerable  interest  and 
then  followed  the  brook  up  the  hillside  in  quest  of 
flowers.  Reclining  upon  a  bed  of  the  "mountain 
bloom"  I  looked  down  upon  the  farm,  across  the  tun 
to  the  lake  and  beyond  to  the  ragged  peaks.  The  smoke 
rose  from  the  peat  fire  in  the  kitchen,  bringing  with 
it  the  pleasing  odor  of  burning  humus,  the  farm  maids 
were  busy  with  the  milking  and  the  men  were  swing- 
ing their  scythes  in  the  meadow,  albeit  it  was  half  past 
nine  at  night.  This  then  is  Iceland,  the  land  of  my 
boyhood  dreams.  These  are  the  home-dwellers,  who 
are  not  city-struck  nor  crazed  with  the  lust  of  gold. 
These  are  the  people  of  sturdy  ways  and  simple  lives 
whom  I  am  to  know  in  the  years  to  come. 


THING  VELLIR  87 

"Let  not  Ambition  mock  their  useful  toil, 
Their  homely  joys  and  destiny  obscure; 
Nor  Grandeur  hear  with  a  disdainful  smile 
The  short  and  simple  annals  of  the  poor." 

The  two  beds  were  placed  end  to  end  on  one  side  of 
the  room.  Each  was  five  feet  long  and  not  over  two 
and  a  half  in  width.  How  these  six-foot  men  can 
sleep  in  any  comfort  in  five-foot  beds  is  a  mystery.  The 
mattress  is  a  well  stuffed  feather  bed,  the  coverlet  is  of 
eider  down.  The  down  is  stuffed  into  a  tick  like  a 
pillow  and  like  a  pillow  it  has  a  white  case.  One  vir- 
tually sleeps  between  two  feather  beds.  In  the  nightly 
struggles  to  kick  the  foot  board  out  of  my  short  bed, 
the  overgrown  pillow,  used  as  a  blanket,  often  fell  to 
the  floor  and  sometimes  as  a  last  resort  to  straighten  out, 
I  followed  the  coverlet  to  the  floor,  used  it  for  a  mattress 
and  with  a  steamer  rug  slept  in  peace. 

Nine  in  the  morning  found  us  at  breakfast.  An 
hour  later,  having  paid  our  host  his  modest  reckoning, 
with  handshaking  all  round  and  a  hearty  godr  a  daginn, 
pronounced  as  though  spelled  go-an-dinc,  meaning  lit- 
erally "good  to  the  day,"  an  ancient  Scandinavian  salu- 
tation and  universal  in  Iceland  for  centuries,  we  started 
to  Thingvellir.  After  riding  for  half  an  hour  over 
the  barren  plain  thickly  studded  with  fragments  of  the 
ancient  basalt  and  with  eyes  steadfastly  fixed  upon  the 
beauties  of  the  lake,  we  came  to  the  brink  of  a  mighty 
chasm.  Below  our  feet  is  the  plain  of  Thbigvellir,  the 
Mecca  of  Iceland,  the  seat  of  the  ancient  parliament, 
the  resultant  of  the  combined  freakishness  of  earth- 
quake and  volcanic  forces.  It  is  a  remarkable  geological 
formation.  The  sunken  plain  is  nearly  ten  miles  long 
and  five  miles  broad. 

We  stand  on  the  brink  of  the  Aim  anna gjd,  All-Men's- 
Rift,  so  named  because  in  ancient  days  when  the  nobles 
and  law-makers  wrere  assembled  in  the  plain  below,  the 


88  ICELAND 

common  people  met  upon  the  heights  along  the  brink 
of  this  chasm  for  a  great  national  holiday  of  about  two 
weeks.  To  our  right,  south-west,  the  sunken  valley  is 
filled  with  the  waters  of  the  lake.  To  the  left,  north- 
cast,  rises  the  abrupt  wall  of  Armannsfell,  a  lofty 
mountain  of  trap.  To  the  south-east,  five  miles  away 
and  extending  from  the  far  side  of  the  lake  to  Armanns- 
fell is  the  Hrafnagjd,  Ravens-Rift.  This  rift  is 
parallel  with  the  one  upon  whose  brink  we  are  now 
standing.  The  sunken  plain  varies  in  the  depth  of  its 
depression  from  twenty-five  feet  at  the  north-east  to 
over  a  hundred  feet  at  the  south-west,  below  the  level 
of  the  surrounding  moorland,  The  plain  itself  is  rent, 
rifted  and  shattered  into  thousands  of  fragments  as 
if  hot  water  had  been  dashed  against  a  plate  glass  win- 
dow on  a  frosty  morning.  Hundreds  of  chasms  inter- 
sect each  other  in  the  sunken  plain  in  a  huge  network. 
They  go  deep  down  to  the  bed  of  the  lake  and  the  lake 
follows  them  up  under  the  lava  and  the  water  glim- 
mers at  the  bottom  of  these  chasms. 

How  was  this  formation  wrought?  In  prehistoric 
times,  that  is  before  Iceland  was  discovered,  how  much 
earlier  we  do  not  know  and  the  rocks  do  not  reveal  the 
secret  save  the  probable  period  of  the  flowing  of  the 
lava  itself  which  filled  all  the  valley,  the  surface 
cooled  and  the  fluid  below  this  crust  was  under  pres- 
sure and  forced  a  passage  through  the  barrier  where  the 
lake  now  lies  and  drained  away.  This  left  a  mam- 
mouth  cavern  with  a  hot,  laminated,  blistered  and 
shrinking  roof.  Time  passed.  The  shrinking  con- 
tinued. The  stress  became  sufficient  to  produce  the 
great  fault,  an  earthquake,  and  in  one  mighty  tumble 
the  entire  roof  of  the  lava  chamber  collapsed,  breaking 
away  from  the  walls  which  now  form  the  moorland 
side  of  the  great  parallel  rifts.  As  it  fell  it  was  shivered 
into  acre-sized  fragments,  tilted  and  turned  so  as  to 


THINGVELLIR  89 

present  a  billowy  appearance.  Time  has  mercifully 
clothed  the  ragged  mass  with  verdure,  tangled  masses 
of  dwarf  birch,  which,  from  the  distance  of  the  brink 
upon  which  we  stand,  soften  the  harsh  outlines 
and  partially  obscure  the  chasms.  As  the  roof  of  the 
cavern  fell  it  broke  away  from  the  mountain  walls  on 
either  side  of  the  plain  and  pulled  the  ragged  mass  with 
it.  This  formed  a  second  wall  and  between  these  two 
walls  runs  the  Almannagjd  on  this  side  of  the  plain  and 
the  Hrafnagjd  on  yonder  side.  From  the  top  of  the 
inner  walls  the  slope  is  gradual  down  into  the  plain, 
much  like  the  inward  sloping  sides  of  a  platter.  On  the 
moorland  side  enormous  niches  extend  into  the  wall 
and  protruding  from  the  second  wall  are  masses  of 
lava  pulled  out  of  these  places  which  would  exactly  fit 
the  ancient  matrix  could  they  be  restored.  These  are 
so  numerous  in  each  of  the  rifts  that  there  is  no  doubt 
as  to  the  correctness  of  our  view  of  the  formation  of 
the  rifts  and  of  Thingvellir. 

Over  the  brink  of  the  tableland  and  into  the  Alman- 
nagjd tumbles  a  fine  sheet  of  water,  the  Oxer  a,  Axe- 
River,  which  follows  the  chasm  down  to  a  break 
through  the  inner  wall,  spreads  over  a  portion  of  the 
plain  and  enters  the  lake.  At  our  feet  there  is  a  narrow 
side  passage  leading  from  the  brink  down  into  the 
rift  which  has  been  laboriously  levelled  and  a  good  road 
now  leads  to  the  lower  level.  This  pass  in  ancient 
days  was  the  stragetic  point  of  many  a  stout  fight.  In 
the  Burnt  Njal  we  read  a  vivid  description  of  such  a 
fight  when  the  issue  of  the  trial  was  unfavorable  to  one 
of  the  factions. 

We  will  now  ride  down  the  incline,  cross  the  bridge 
over  the  foaming  Oxerd  and  draw  rein  at  the  Falholl, 
Great-Hall-of-the-King.  This  was  erected  when  King 
Frederick  of  Denmark  visited  the  place  in  1907.  That 
the  good  king  toured  a  portion  of  Iceland  at  this  time 


9o  ICELAND 

is  a  blessing  to  travellers  because  special  roads  were 
built,  bridges  erected  and  inns  constructed  for  his  ac- 
commodation. 

We  turned  the  ponies  over  to  Johannes  who  took 
them  to  the  pasture  upon  the  moorland  above  the  rift. 
It  was  only  eleven  in  the  morning  and  we  had  ridden 
but  an  hour  yet  we  decided  to  spend  the  day  in  a 
further  examination  of  this  historic  spot.  The  time 
allotted  proved  inadequate  and  a  year  later,  on  our  re- 
turn from  the  north,  we  passed  an  entire  day  here.  Less 
than  half  a  dozen  people  were  stopping  at  the  Valholl. 
We  were  assigned  a  room  like  a  beach  bath  house  with 
two  bunks,  one  above  the  other  as  in  a  steamer.  We 
did  not  know  till  the  next  summer  that  this  hotel  had 
first,  second  and  third  class  lodgings.  It  was  the  only 
place  in  Iceland  where  we  ever  found  any  distinction. 
On  our  second  summer  we  had  first  class  accommoda- 
tions, which  meant  a  large  comfortable  room  with  a 
regulation  bed  and  the  meals  served  privately  in  the 
adjoining  room  in  place  of  on  a  bench  in  the  large  hall. 

Immediately  we  set  out  to  explore  the  place.  A  mist 
was  creeping  in  from  the  lake  and  down  from  the  moun- 
tains. This  soon  developed  into  a  "Scotch  mist" 
which  is  an  easy  falling  rain.  We  went  to  the  Oxerd, 
explored  the  deep  rift  between  the  walls,  which  in  places 
has  been  fenced  off  for  sheep  cotes.  We  climbed  the 
wall  to  the  top  of  the  falls,  peered  down  into  the  numer- 
ous fissures  and  were  astonished  to  find  snow  at  the 
bottom  of  one  of  them.  It  is  a  narrow  chasm,  very 
deep  and  the  sun  can  not  reach  the  bottom.  We  fol- 
lowed the  wall  eastward  for  two  miles  where  we  found 
a  place  to  descend  into  the  plain.  On  the  return  we 
wandered  among  the  crevasses,  dodging  blocks  of  lav:i 
and  jumping  the  narrow  rifts  where  down  a  hundred 
feet  the  water  glimmered.  We  returned  in  the  rain 
for  our  mid-afternoon  meal  which  consisted  of  broiled 


THINGVELLIR  91 

trout  from  the  lake.  It  rained  vigorously  and  we  de- 
voted some  time  to  the  neglected  notebooks,  also  to  an 
examination  of  the  guest  book.  They  do  not  use  reg- 
isters, simply  a  book  in  which  the  parting  guest  writes 
his  name  and  any  comments  he  chooses.  There  is  an 
old  Icelandic  proverb  which  runs  as  follows, — 

Island  er  hin  best  a  land  sem  sol  skina  up  pi 

Iceland  is  the  best  land  on  which  the  sun  comes  up. 

(shines). 

This  was  quoted  over  one  of  the  signatures.  A  little 
later  some  one  had  written  an  addition  in  German, — 
"and  the  rain  rains." 

At  five  in  the  afternoon  the  clouds  broke  away,  the 
sun  came  smilingly  forth  and  we  continued  our  explora- 
tion. We  visited  the  ducking  pool,  where  in  ancient 
days  women  convicted  of  heinous  crimes  were  drowned. 
This  is  a  big  noisy  basin  within  the  Almannagjd  a 
little  way  below  the  falls.  Well  would  it  have  been 
with  the  noble  Gunnar  had  Halgerda  been  dipped  in 
this  cauldron  ere  ever  he  became  fascinated  with  her 
beauty  and  caught  in  her  toils.  We  crossed  to  the  bord- 
ers of  the  lake  where  there  is  a  small  tun,  the  Thingvellir 
parsonage.  An  ancient  church  stands  within  the  en- 
closing walls  of  the  tun.  We  obtained  the  key  of  the 
pastor  and  entered.  Until  a  few  years  ago  the  churches 
throughout  the  country  were  turned  over  to  travellers 
for  sleeping  quarters.  This  was  a  most  excellent  arrange- 
ment as  they  afforded  plenty  of  room  and  were  always 
well  ventilated.  Some  English  sportsmen  once  amused 
themselves  by  throwing  their  boots  at  the  candles  on 
the  altar  and  committing  other  acts  of  vandalism  and 
the  Bishop  of  Iceland  very  wisely  forbade  the  future  use 
of  the  churches  as  accommodations  for  travellers.  This 
has  put  many  people  to  inconvenience  since,  not  only 
the  traveller  but  the  farmer  or  pastor  who  has  had 


92  ICELAND 

to  discommode  himself  to  find  room  in  an  already  over- 
crowded house.  Thus  do  many  people  suffer  for  the 
wanton  acts  of  a  few  and  a  nation  gets  a  bad  name 
because  of  the  deeds  of  a  few  of  its  reckless  sons. 
Until  Valholl  was  erected  the  pastor  at  this  place  cared 
for  the  strangers  if  they  were  without  a  tent.  What 
a  relief  to  him  has  been  this  little  hospice.  This  par- 
sonage figures  prominently  in  the  Prodigal  Son,  which 
is  Hall  Cain's  best  work  on  Iceland.  It  should  be  read 
by  all  who  contemplate  a  visit  to  this  land  or  are  inter- 
ested in  the  country.  When  he  wrote  the  Bondman 
he  had  never  been  in  Iceland  and  he  wrote  entirely  from 
imagination  and  without  any  local  color.  This  was 
severely  criticised  in  Iceland  and  so  much  fuss  was 
made  over  the  misrepresentations  and  erroneous  para- 
graphs that  Cain  visited  the  country,  thoroughly  ex- 
plored the  vicinity  of  Reykjavik  and  then  wrote  The 
Prodigal  Son  which  redeemed  himself  in  the  eyes  of  the 
people.  Icelanders  are  quite  sensitive  about  misrepre- 
sentations made  by  foreigners.  Above  all  other  things 
the  Icelander  dreads  to  be  laughed  at,  scorns  false- 
hoods about  himself  and  his  country  and  is  jealous  of 
its  reputation.     This  is  deep  seated  patriotism. 

The  little  church  contains  a  very  old  altar  piece,  a 
Last  Supper,  painted  on  wood.  The  altar  itself 
was  constructed  in  1683.  ^n  the  yai*d  there  is  a 
monolith  of  lava  erected  by  man.  On  its  eastern  face 
there  are  several  parallel  marks  cut  deeply  into  the 
stone.  Like  the  standard  Meter  kept  in  Paris  and  the 
standard  Yard  in  London,  these  lines  marked  the  stan- 
dard alin,  ell,  measure  of  linear  distance  in  the  ancient 
days.  It  is  supposed  to  be  of  the  tenth  century.  The 
measures  of  the  country  were  adjusted  by  this  standard. 
Thus  the  Scandinavians  fixed  a  standard  of  measurement 
centuries  before  Great  Britain  adopted  its  arbitrary  and 
unscientific  measure  or  the  arc  of  a  meridian  had  been 


THINGVELLIR  93 

measured  for  the  French  scientific  standard. 

A  little  way  from  the  parsonage  and  beside  the  re- 
cently constructed  road  is  the  Logberg,  Mount-of-Laws. 
Let  us  ascend  it,  note  the  surroundings  and  recall  the 
past.  When  the  plain  fell  to  its  present  irregular  level 
and  was  shattered  into  hundreds  of  misshapen  masses, 
here  by  the  lake  two  of  the  chasms,  like  the  arcs  of  in- 
tersecting circles,  enclosed  a  long  oval  fragment  of  lava 
which  stood  high  above  the  surrounding  level  and  over- 
looked the  lake.  This  is  the  Law  Mount.  One  of 
these  rifts  is  known  as  the  Flosigjd.  At  one  point  the 
walls  approach  within  eighteen  feet  and  it  is  said  that 
when  the  burner  of  Njal,  Flosi,  was  hotly  pursued  by 
his  enemies  he  leaped  this  chasm.  These  chasms, 
through  which  an  underground  river  finds  its  way  into 
the  lake,  are  very  picturesque  with  their  lichen  en- 
crusted walls,  with  the  crowberry  in  the  niches  and  the 
wild  thyme  hanging  over  the  brink.  In  the  old  days 
it  was  possible  to  reach  the  engirdled  mount  at  only 
one  place.  This  made  it  easy  of  defense  and  secure 
to  the  lawgivers  and  judges  against  intrusion  by  the 
populace.  Frosts  and  earthquakes  have  pried  off  many 
an  angular  fragment  into  the  gulf  and  the  place  is  now 
easy  of  access. 

Standing  on  the  grassy  mound  the  great  wall  of 
Almannajgd  reaches  its  black  mass  from  the  border  of 
the  lake  to  Armansfell,  the  Oxerd  plunges  in  one  long 
white  curve  over  the  brink,  boils  musically  within  its 
distant  canyon  and  reappears  through  the  rent  in  the 
side  of  the  inner  wall  flecked  with  foam.  Beyond  the 
moorland  Sulur,  Stone-Pillars,  rears  his  pinnacles  of 
basalt.  Thingvallavatn  smiles  at  our  feet.  No  sail 
dots  its  brilliant  surface,  no  houses  border  its  precip- 
itous shore.  It  is  the  same  as  when  the  Sa?a  heroes 
fished  in  its  bright  depths  and  these  graceful  swan  and 
busy  ducks  enjoy  the  same  tranquility  as  their  remote 


94  ICELAND 

ancestors.  Around  the  lake  a  ring  of  red  and  purple 
peaks,  robed  in  transparent  atmosphere  and  embellished 
with  hues  unknown  in  lower  latitudes,  peep  into  this 
molten  glimmerglass  to  behold  each  others  image,  while, 
amid  the  distance-softened  ridges,  Hengill  sends  up- 
ward its  "columns  of  white  vapor  like  altar  smoke" 
towards  the  softened  sky.  The  embosomed  isles  are 
skirted  with  green  and  at  the  waters  edge  are  fringed 
with  the  aromatic  Angelica.  Uncounted  peaks  are 
around  us  surpliced  with  white  raiment  as  though  as- 
sembled to  raise  one  grand  anthem  to  Nature's  God. 

Let  us  turn  back  the  pages  of  time  800  years.  We 
stand  upon  the  upper  portion  of  the  Logberg,  upon  the 
bloodstone,  where  the  backs  of  criminals  were  broken 
before  they  were  hurled  into  the  abyss  at  our  feet.  The 
Thingmen  are  in  solemn  assembly  a  little  lower  down 
the  incline.  Along  the  brink  of  Almannajgd  throng  the 
populace  in  assembled  thousands  in  their  annual  August 
festival,  gathered  from  every  portion  of  the  island. 
They  await  the  issue  of  some  vital  subject  under  dis- 
cussion on  the  mound.  It  is  the  year  11 12  and  the 
trial  for  the  Burning  of  Njal  is  well  under  way.  That 
old  man  with  the  quiet  mien  and  full  flowing  beard  is 
Mord.     He  rises,  faces  the  Court  and  says, — 

"I  take  witness  to  this,  that  I  take  a  Fifth  Court  oath. 
T  pray  God  so  to  help  me  in  this  light  and  in  the  next, 
as  I  shall  plead  this  suit  as  T  know  to  be  most  truth- 
ful, and  just,  and  lawful.  I  believe  with  all  my  heart 
that  Flosi  is  truly  guilty  in  this  suit,  if  I  may  bring 
forward  my  proofs;  and  I  have  not  brought  money  into 
this  court  in  this  suit,  and  I  will  not  bring  it.  I  have 
not  taken  money  and  I  will  not  take  it,  neither  for  a 
lawful  nor  for  an  unlawful  end." 

The  great  trial  proceeds  but  a  flaw  is  found  in  the 
pleading  and  the  technicality  destroys  all  that  has  been 
gained.     Now  men   rush  to  their  weapons  and  Flosi 


THINGVELLIR  95 

would  gain  the  Great  Rift  as  a  place  of  defense.  Snorri, 
the  Priest,  forsees  the  outcome  and  has  quietly  stationed 
another  hardy  band  at  this  vantage  point.  The  throng 
upon  the  moorland  press  to  the  brink  to  watch  the 
fierce  fight  waged  by  the  contending  factions,  who  at- 
tempt to  settle  at  the  point  of  the  spear  the  ques- 
tion which  has  just  failed  in  the  court.  Might  is  still 
right.  Doughty  blows  are  showered  as  Odin  chants 
the  warsong  under  the  shields  of  his  few  remaining  war- 
riors. Spear  and  battle  axe  ring  loudly  upon  shield 
and  helmet.  The  verdict  is  rendered.  The  decree  is 
written  in  blood  upon  the  grass.  A  prolonged  shout 
of  acclamation  mingled  with  the  roar  of  disapproval 
rises  from  the  multitude.  The  clamor  dies  away,  for 
the  sturdy  bodies  of  these  iron  heroes,  who  can  give 
and  take  such  blows,  can  endure  no  longer  and  the 
struggle  ends  with  lifelong  feuds. 

Upon  the  sunken  plain  along  the  banks  of  the  Oxerd 
stand  the  booths  of  the  prominent  Thingmen,  the 
priests,  the  chieftains  and  the  poets.  To  these  the  people 
assemble  in  noisy  factions  to  cool  their  blood  in  long 
draughts  of  mead.  See,  there  by  the  snowy  falls  near 
to  the  perpendicular  wall  is  the  booth  of  Snorri.  Down 
the  river  a  little  distance  is  the  booth  where  Njal  so 
often  gave  counsel  ere  the  burning;  there  by  the  lake 
is  the  booth  of  the  fair  and  treacherous  HallgerSa.  Tt 
was  here  that  Gunnar  first  spied  her  sitting  in  the  door- 
way fresh  from  her  bath  in  the  lake.  The  bloodshed 
is  not  quite  over,  look  where  the  river  foams  through  its 
rocky  jaws,  leaping  in  two  great  bounds  for  the  lake, 
impatient  for  its  victims.  Tn  that  surging  eddv  within 
the  rift  that  group  of  women  convicted  of  infanticide 
and  adultery  are  now  to  be  drowned  and  on  that  mound 
where  those  fagots  of  birch  are  piled  that  witch  is  to 
be  burned. 

The   800  years  are  passed.     The  writer  stands  at 


96  ICELAND 

eventide  alone  upon  the  Logberg  and  views  with  en- 
chanted eye  this  perfect  painting  of  peace  let  down  from 
heaven.  Mammoth  and  angular  masses,  their  rough- 
ness softened  with  thyme  and  forget-me-nots,  surround 
the  age-old  chasms  and  live  anew  in  those  Nile-green 
depths.  Peaceful  it  is  beyond  the  power  of  descrip- 
tion. Here  the  sturdy  Viking,  wealthy  with  the  spoils 
of  Europe,  worked  out  a  constitution,  founded  a  re- 
public, sloughed  off  the  skin  of  paganism,  adopted  on 
the  first  ballot  the  Christ-law  and  crystallized  a  civiliza- 
tion centuries  since.  Here  in  the  old  and  stirring  days 
great  minds  held  sway.  What  sturdy  men  they  were, 
mighty  in  feats  of  arms,  resourceful,  inventive,  poetic, 
pregnant  with  the  germs  of  thought  that  in  their  latter 
day  development  produced  a  scholastic,  peaceful,  Chris- 
tian nation !  What  wondrous  deeds  they  wrought,  what 
grand  old  epics  they  enacted,  let  their  Sagamen  re- 
late. 

Beautiful  Arctic  flowers  crown  the  Logberg.  The 
plover  whistles  on  the  heather  and  the  whimbrel  calls 
as  in  days  of  yore.  Around  this  primitive  parliament 
flow  the  emerald  waters  in  varied  shades  of  prismic 
green  like  polished  malachite,  long  since  unpolluted 
with  broken-backed  criminals. 

I  fired  my  revolver  into  the  green-bedded  chasm  of 
the  Flosigjd  to  awaken  the  echoes.  Their  voices  be- 
tokened peace.  The  angry  snarl  of  the  bloodthirsty 
mob,  the  clash  of  bill  on  yielding  armor,  the  wail  of 
drowning  women  no  longer  reverberated  from  chasm  to 
cliff.     Echo  had  but  one  message,  Peace. 

Peace  to  the  generations  past,  whose  warriors  have 
long  since  mouldered  in  yonder  heath !  Solemnly, 
softly,  silently  the  echo  fades  upon  Thingvellir's  plain. 
So  say  I. — Peace  to  the  mighty  dead !  Peace  to  the  little 
nation  now  toiling  for  existence  upon  this  fire-blistered 


Foot  of  the  Oxer  a  in  Almannagjd. 


Logberg,    Mount    of    Laws,    between    the    Rifts. 
Armannsfell  in  the  Distance. 


THINGVELLIR  97 

island !  Peace,  I  say,  to  those  Plutonic  forces  that  have 
wrought  far  greater  havoc  and  misery  in  this  Arctic 
realm  than  all  the  bloody  passions  of  its  first  born  sons! 


CHAPTER  VIIT 

GEYSIR 

"Where  the  cauldron  of  the  North 

Spouts  his  boiling  waters  forth, 

From  the  caverns  far  beneath, 

Where  they  ever  lie  and  seethe, 

And  with  steam,  and  hiss,  and  boom, 

Send  a  tremor  through  the  gloom, 

Till,  above,  the  solid  ground 

Vibrates  with  a  dull  rebound, — 
In  that  place  I  stood  and  saw 
Things  that  filled  my  soul  with  awe." 

— Miss  Menzies. 

MORNING  dawned  with  a  gentle  rain.  Hour 
after  hour  it  fell  with  no  promise  of 
abatement  until  ten,  when  the  clouds  were 
rifted,  the  sun  shone  through  and  the  drip- 
ping plain  glistened.  We  decided  to  set  out  for  the 
long  ride  to  Geysir.  The  ponies  had  been  in  readiness 
for  an  hour  in  anticipation  of  an  earlier  start. 

We  turned  into  the  trail  leading  across  the  plain, 
along  the  border  of  the  lake  towards  Hrafnagjd,  Johan- 
nes following  with  the  train  at  some  distance.  When 
we  reached  the  rift  we  halted  to  examine  it  until  Johan- 
nes arrived.  This  chasm  is  longer  than  the  Almannagjd 
but  not  so  deep  and  surely  not  so  impressive.  It  lacks 
the  beautiful  waterfall  and  the  historical  associations 
of  the  latter.  It  extends  along  the  side  of  the  mountain 
which  we  were  about  to  climb.  Many  blocks  of  basalt 
have  tumbled  into  it  in  one  place  and  over  these  a  suit- 
able and  safe  passage  has  been  constructed.  As  we 
crossed  the  chasm  the  rain  began  to  fall,  likewise  the 
temperature.  Long  before  we  had  reached  the  summit 
of  the  mountain  pass  the  rain  was  pouring  upon  us  and 
rolling  off  in  rivulets  from  horse  and  rider.     This  was 

98 


GEYSIR  99 

a  good  test  of  our  specially  made  waterproof  clothing 
and  it  stood  the  test.  Never  a  drop  penetrated  save 
up  the  sleeve  of  the  bridle  hand. 

At  the  summit,  the  clouds  scattered  again;  this  time 
in  earnest  and  we  experienced  no  more  rain  during  the 
long  trip.  It  was  just  one  long  and  glorious  summer 
day  and  we  wandered  care-free  in  full  enjoyment  of 
the  wonderful  country.  Near  the  summit  we  passed 
a  lonely  little  farmhouse  and  the  people  being  absent  in 
the  hayfield  the  lonesome  dog  came  out  to  make  our 
acquaintance. 

At  this  place  the  trail  winds  through  an  exceedingly 
rough  area  of  lava,  tangled  and  twisted.  It  was  my 
first  experience  with  recent  volcanic  products  and  it  was 
with  absorbing  interest  that  I  examined  this  material, 
as  the  ponies  climbed  the  steep  gradient  and  threaded 
the  narrow  path  through  the  labyrinth  ol  angular K 
blocks.  Above  our  heads  rose  a  line  of  peaked  and 
jagged  volcanoes,  Kdlfstindar,  Calf-Peaks.  This  place 
has  been  the  center  of  considerable  volcanic  activity  as 
evidenced  by  the  different  forms  of  lava,  i.  e.  lava  of 
different  periods  of  eruption  also  by  the  weathering 
piles  of  tufa  and  conglomerate.  Near  the  trail  there 
is  a  peculiar  formation,  a  tintron.  This  is  a  volcanic 
chimney,  rising  about  nine  feet  out  of  the  lava  plain. 
The  opening  at  the  top  is  in  the  form  of  an  ellipse  and 
the  tube  extends  forty  feet  down  into  the  solid  lava. 
The  sides  are  blistered  and  it  has  the  appearance  of 
having  been  a  blow-hole  from  which  thin  lava  was 
thrown  upward  in  the  form  of  a  fountain  as  water 
from  the  nozzle  of  a  hose.  There  are  several  of 
these  unique  formations  in  the  north  which  will  be 
discussed  when  we  reach  Myvatn. 

Soon  after  leaving  the  tintron,  the  trail  wound 
downward  along  the  side  of  the  mountain  and  under 
projecting  cliffs   of  tufa   and   brought  us  suddenly   in 


J 


ioo  ICELAND 

view  of  the  fair  valley  of  Laugardalr,  Valley-of-the 
Hot-Springs.  An  entrancing  panorama  was  spread  out 
at  our  feet.  The  luxuriant  green  of  the  valley  con- 
trasted strangely  with  the  scorched  and  blistered  bar- 
riers over  which  we  had  been  climbing.  In  the  dis- 
tance a  smiling  lake  of  no  mean  proportions  cut  a 
large  space  out  of  the  meadows.  On  the  nearer  and 
the  farther  shore  of  Laugarvatn,  Hot-Spring-Lake, 
rose  columns  of  steam  in  slender  spirals  quivering  in 
the  breeze  and  vanishing  in  the  upper  air.  Numer- 
ous sheep  and  cattle  marked  the  valley  with  dots  of 
white  and  brown.  Besides  the  nearer  hot  springs  clust- 
ered a  group  of  farm  buildings  and  the  distance  caused 
their  turf  roofs  to  appear  like  tiny  hillocks.  This  lake 
and  valley  appear  like  a  monstrous  chrysoprase  in  a 
grand  setting.  The  valley  is  enclosed  by  the  needle 
spires  of  the  volcanoes  which  are  red,  brown,  yellow 
and  gray  and  streaked  with  a  mixture  of  all  these 
colors  on  their  naked  slopes  where  the  melting  snows 
have  swept  down  many  an  avalanche  of  ash  and  cinder. 
We  descended  by  a  steep  path  to  the  lower  level, 
passing  many  a  towering  pile  of  conglomerate  of  soft 
texture  and  wading  through  many  a  talus  of  ash  and 
sand  where  the  myriads  of  zeolites  glistened.  The 
masses  of  rock  protruding  from  the  tufa  cliffs  give 
them  the  appearance  of  huge  plum  puddings.  Reach- 
ing the  verdant  plain  we  changed  ponies  and  while 
waiting  for  them  to  graze,  we  explored  a  small  cavern 
in  the  base  of  the  cinder  pile.  This  cave  has  long  been 
used  as  a  retreat  for  the  sheep  in  times  of  storm.  It 
has  since  been  cleaned,  a  turf  dwelling  erected  before 
its  entrance  and  it  now  forms  the  home  of  a  young 
Icelandic  couple  who  have  set  up  their  housekeeping 
here  since  our  visit.  Remounting  we  sped  away  over 
the  meadow,  crossing  many  small  brooks  and  arrived 
at  the  farm  by  the  hot  springs.     This  place  has  many 


GEYSIR  ic  i 

signs  of  prosperity,  such  as  the  quality  of  the  build- 
ings, the  numerous  flocks  around  the  lake,  the  abund- 
ance of  hay  and  the  thrifty  patch  of  potatoes  in  its 
special  turfed  enclosure.  We  were  cordially  welcomed, 
taken  to  the  guest  room  and  served  with  hot  coffee, 
milk,  pastry  and  delicious  griddle  cakes,  large  in  area 
and  quite  thin,  buttered  while  hot,  sprinkled  with 
sugar  and  then  rolled  tightly.  We  found  these  grid- 
dle cakes  at  many  of  the  farms  and  can  cordially  rec- 
ommend them  to  a  dainty  appetite.  At  the  close  ot 
the  lunch  we  repaired  to  the  hot  springs  which  always 
had  for  us  an  unfailing  interest.  They  are  at  the  very 
edge  of  the  lake  and  have  formed  small  mounds  of 
silicious  scinter  mingled  with  lime  and  alum.  Wher- 
ever the  hot  water  has  fallen  upon  the  land  there  is  an 
incrustation  of  fantastic  form.  Most  of  the  water  boils 
over  into  the  cold  water  of  the  lake.  The  spring  furn- 
ishes hot  water  for  all  domestic  purposes  and  is  a  great 
conserver  of  fuel.  The  clothes  are  washed  in  tubs  be- 
side the  springs  and  then  rinsed  in  the  lake.  Here 
the  wool  is  cleansed  before  shipment.  In  the  hot 
ground  the  bread  is  baked,  the  dough  being  enclosed 
in  earthen  jars.  In  a  fuelless  country  it  is  a  gift.  It 
is  a  strange  contrast  this  pouring  out  of  boiling  water 
in  the  margin  of  the  cold  lake. 

We  hastened  across  the  meadow  along  the  border 
of  the  lake  to  regain  the  trail  leading  to  Geysir.  Hasten 
is  the  correct  word.  No  air  was  stirring  and  the  clouds 
of  tiny  my,  midges,  that  rose  out  of  the  long  grass  as 
the  ponies  disturbed  them,  simply  smothered  us.  They 
filled  the  ears  of  the  ponies,  crowding  in  with  the  lon£ 
hair  and  swarmed  in  patches  upon  their  flanks  and 
legs.  Instances  are  related  where  the  midges  so  tor- 
mented the  ponies  that  they  rushed  into  the  water,  in 
spite  of  the  protestations  of  the  riders,  that  they  might 
get  rid  of  their  tormenters.     No  horse  of  my  know- 


•io2  ICELAND 

ledge  has  his  ears  so  completely  filled  with  hair  as  the 
Icelandic  pony.  Doubtless  this  is  an  adaptation  for  a 
special  purpose  and  I  believe  that  purpose  was  to  pro- 
tect these  delicate  organs  from  these  stinging  insects. 
We  drew  forth  our  fly  veils  and  put  them  on  with  some 
relief,  but  as  we  did  it  while  at  a  full  gallop  they  were 
not  securely  fastened  and  some  of  the  pests  got  under 
the  netting.  Here  they  were  happy,  for  we  could  not 
drive  them  away.  In  desperation  I  pulled  off  my  veil, 
for  the  express  purpose  of  giving  all  the  midges  an 
equal  chance.  It  needed  no  urging  to  put  the  ponies 
to  their  best  paces,  for  they  well  understood  that  the 
insects  would  leave  us  when  we  had  attained  an  eleva- 
tion above  the  meadow. 

We  entered  a  tract  of  scrubby  willow  and  dwarf 
birch.  Some  of  the  birches  were  as  high  as  our  should- 
ers while  we  were  on  horseback  and  thus  we  rode  with 
our  heads  protruding  above  the  Icelandic  forest  and 
there  was  some  free  advice  given  about  getting  lost  in 
the  woods.  There  are  two  or  three  larger  forests  in 
the  north  which  we  shall  visit  later.  We  passed  sev- 
eral good  farms  and  every  one,  men,  women  and  chil- 
dren were  busy  with  the  hay  harvest.  Two  hours 
riding  took  us  to  Middalr,  Middale,  church,  which  is 
close  to  the  famous  Bruard,  Bridge-River.  Many 
streams  rush  out  of  the  mountain  gullies  and  unite  up 
this  side  valley.  Here  the  Bruard  comes  foaming  down 
its  shelving  bed  in  a  passion.  Near  the  crossing  ir 
spreads  out  in  a  wide  sheet  ever  the  lava  which  is  full 
of  ugly  crevasses.  One  great  rift,  of  unknown  depth, 
and  five  feet  wide  extends  through  the  center  of  this 
lava  and  the  river  tumbles  into  it  from  both  sides. 
Tumbling  into  lava  rifts  is  a  characteristic  of  Icelandic 
rivers,  some  of  them  entirely  disappear.  Until  the 
coming  of  King  Frederick  in  1907  the  traveller  rode 
his   pony   through   the    water    for   about   one   hundred 


GEYSIR  103 

feet,  carefully  avoiding  the  cracks,  with  the  water  well 
up  the  flanks  of  the  pony.  When  the  rift  was  reached 
it  was  crossed  on  planks  bolted  to  the  rock  and  often 
with  the  water  flowing  over  them.  When  safely  across 
the  "bridge"  another  passage  of  one  hundred  feet 
through  the  water  brought  the  traveller  once  more  upon 
dry  ground.  This  is  why  it  is  called  "bridge  river."  A 
suspension  bridge  now  spans  the  stream  and  the  view  up 
the  river  is  excellent.  In  former  days  it  required  some 
steadiness  of  purpose  to  thread  this  tangled  maze  of 
cracks  beneath  the  white  water  and  ride  the  plank  over 
the  foaming  stream,  and  yet,  I  am  sure,  I  would  prefer 
it  to  the  crossing  of  the  Olfusa  which  we  made  two 
weeks  later. 

Here  we  encountered  a  large  party  of  Icelanders 
with  numerous  pack  ponies  laden  with  provisions,  tim- 
ber, and  strangest  of  all,  huge  piles  of  fish  heads  with 
attached  vertebrae.  The  party  had  been  down  to  the 
coast  to  dispose  of  their  wool  and  were  returning  with 
their  supplies  for  the  summer.  When  the  fish  are 
dressed  the  heads  and  backbones  are  cut  out  and  hung 
upon  the  fences  to  dry.  In  the  interior  they  are  pul- 
verized and  used  for  food  whenever  provisions  arc 
short.  In  the  spring  when  hay  becomes  scarce  fish 
are  often  fed  to  the  livestock. 

Passing  the  farm,  Utlid,  the  out-folk  or  the  people 
beyond,  we  wound  around  the  shingly  side  of  Bjarna- 
fell,  Bear-Mountain,*  and  descended  to  the  plain  which 
proved  to  be  a  bog  saturated  with  the  recent  rain. 
Lord  Dufferin  in  his  Letters  from  High  Latitudes  calls 
this  place  "an  Irish  bog."  The  crossing  was  anything 
but  pleasant  for  the  ponies.  Many  deeply  worn  trails 
crossed  the  plain  towards  Gcysir.  Under  ordinary  con- 
ditions of  dryness  any  one  of  these  ditches  would  have 

*Fell  is  an  isolated  mountain  while  fjall  is  the  termination  applied 
to  a  mountain  showing  that  it  is  a  portion  of  a  group  or  a  range. 


104  ICELAND 

been  satisfactory  to  the  ponies,  but  partly  filled  with 
mud  the  ponies  shied  at  them  and  without  any  warn- 
ing frequently  jumped  out  of  one  and  into  another  be- 
fore the  rider  was  aware  of  what  was  about  to  hap- 
pen. It  is  in  places  of  this  character  that  the  instinct 
and  experience  of  the  pony  is  more  serviceable  than 
the  judgment  of  his  rider.  It  is  in  the  bog,  on  the 
rough  mountain  trail  and  in  the  foaming  river  that 
the  true  worth  and  peculiar  qualities  of  the  Icelandic 
pony  is  revealed.  The  ponies  prefer  the  old  ruts  which 
often  are  worn  so  deeply  that  his  flanks  rub  the  turfed 
edges  and  the  rider  must  pay  special  attention  to  his 
own  feet  if  he  would  not  have  them  jammed  into  the 
turf  at  the  angles  of  the  intersecting  trails.  Attempt 
to  get  the  pony  out  of  the  rut  and  on  to  what  the  rider 
assumes  is  a  better  path,  the  turf,  and  the  mettle  of 
the  steed  is  immediately  aroused.  It  requires  a  strong 
pull  upon  the  rein  and  a  dig  of  the  heel  into  the  ribs 
of  the  pony  to  get  him  out  of  the  path  he  has  chosen. 
As  soon  as  this  is  accomplished  to  the  satisfaction  of 
the  rider  and  he  settles  down  in  the  saddle  conscious  of 
his  superior  wisdom  over  the  brute  creation,  without 
the  least  warning  the  pony  takes  a  side  step  which  lands 
him  in  the  bottom  of  the  forbidden  trail.  After  a  few 
of  these  unexpected  rebuffs  the  rider  is  content  to  let 
the  pony  have  the  choice  of  trails  providing  it  leads 
in  the  general  direction  of  the  rider's  choice. 

In  the  distance  we  saw  columns  of  steam  rising  from 
a  large  area  and  Johannes  assured  us  that  it  was  from 
the  geysers.  It  was  here  that  we  met  an  acquaintance 
from  the  Laura,  Mr.  A.  V.  Manneling,  a  banker  from 
Helsingfors  in  Finland,  whose  company  had  been  very 
agreeable  on  the  voyage  from  Leith  to  Reykjavik.  He 
informed  us  that  Geysir,  (pronounced  gay-sir,)  had 
erupted  that  noon  and  would  probably  give  another 
exhibition  that  evening.     We  bade  him  good-bye  and 


GEYSIR  105 

hastened  on  in  order  to  be  present  during  the  eruption. 
A  century  ago  Geysir  was  quite  constant  in  the  periods 
of  its  eruption  but  owing  to  recent  earthquakes  which 
have  changed  the  conditions  below  it  is  not  at  all  regular 
and  it  is  frequently  eight  days  between  the  displays. 
We  forded  several  tributaries  of  the  Tungufljot* 
Tongue-River,  rounded  the  base  of  Laugarfell,  Hot- 
Mountain,  and  rode  into  the  midst  of  the  steaming 
acres,  the  cite  of  great  Geysir  and  his  satelites,  a 
place  of  awful  magnificence,  where  the  water, — 

*     hot,   through   scorching  cliffs  is  seen   to   rise 
With  exhalations  steaming  to  the  skies!" 

—Iliad. 

We  dismounted  at  the  little  inn,  which  is  located  in 
the  midst  of  the  boiling  and  spouting  caldrons,  glad 
to  leave  the  saddle  after  a  ride  of  thirty-five  miles 
across  a  diversified  country.  It  had  been  our  second 
day  in  the  saddle  but  we  had  become  accustomed  to 
the  ponies  and  they  had  discovered  that  the  riders  were 
their  masters.  We  had  had  an  exceedingly  pleasant 
journey  with  no  discomforts  except  those  attendant 
upon  horeback  riding  through  a  rough  and  roadless 
country. 

This  little  inn  was  another  creation  for  the  benefit 
of  the  King  and  again  we  rejoiced  that  his  visit  to  Ice- 
land preceded  ours.  There  are  four  rooms  on  the 
ground  floor,  one  for  dining  and  the  other  three  for  bed- 
rooms. The  cooking  is  done  in  a  little  house  slightly 
removed  towards  the  mountain.  Formerly  all  travel- 
lers to  Geysir  took  tents  with  them  for  use  at  this  place 
or  hired  them  of  the  farmer  at  Haukadalr,  Hawk-dale.  v 
The  Inn  was  crowded.     There  was  a  large  company  ot 

*Flj6t  and  d  each  mean  river  but  there  is  the  same  distinction  be- 
tween them  as  between  river  and  brook.  Fljot  is  a  large  river  with 
broad  lake-like  expansions  and  a  is  an  ordinary  stream. 


106  ICELAND 

Icelanders  out  for  a  holiday  besides  several  Danes, 
Germans  and  those  lovers  of  the  Laura,  the  Swede 
and  the  Icelandic  maiden.  We  encountered  them  sev- 
eral times  during  the  summer  and  they  were  having  a 
happy  time.  It  appeared  to  be  a  honeymoon  preceding 
the  bridal.  There  was  a  prolonged  conversation  be- 
tween Johannes  and  the  keeper  of  the  Inn  in  which 
Johannes  expressed  himself  quite  forcibly  if  we  could 
judge  by  the  determination  in  his  voice.  He  appeared 
to  be  the  victor,  for  he  came  to  us  with  a  beaming  face 
and  showed  us  into  one  of  the  corner  rooms  next  to 
Geysir.  Our  luggage  was  brought  in,  a  steaming  sup- 
per of  boiled  mutton,  potatoes,  milk,  coffee  and  black 
bread  was  set  before  us.  That  Icelandic  coffee  !  The  ber- 
ries are  freshly  roasted  every  morning,  they  are  of  prime 
quality,  the  brewing  is  expertly  done,  the  cream  is  real 
and, — well,  it  is  delicious.  Throughout  the  country 
it  is  the  same.  Halt  at  a  farmhouse  at  any  time  in 
the  day  and  you  are  invited  to  Coffee.  It  is  coffee 
with  every  meal  and  frequent  potations  between  meals. 
In  that  land  the  coffee  ghost  has  never  risen  to  be 
cried  down  with  a  score  of  cereal  concoctions.  Pre- 
pare it  here  freshly  and  expertly  as  they  do  and  there 
is  no  reason  why  conscience  should  peer  over  the  brim 
of  the  steaming  cup  to  bid  us  beware  of  the  snare  of  its 
fragrance. 

We  were  hungry  but  our  curiosity  concerning  the  lo- 
cality made  short  work  of  the  supper.  We  then 
learned  that  the  discussion  in  which  Johannes  became 
so  energetic  was  precipitated  by  his  stipulation  that  no 
one  was  to  use  the  room  except  ourselves.  In  it  there 
were  three  single  beds,  bunks  built  against  the  wall, 
and  provisions  for  several  more  in  the  middle  of  the 
room  when  occasion  required  them.  We  did  not  know 
the  Icelandic  custom,  that  several  men,  women  and 
children,  whether  known  to  each  other  or  not,  sleep  in 


GEYSIR  107 

the  same  room  without  any  inconvenience.  The  inn- 
keeper did  not  understand  why  this  custom  should  be 
broken  to  the  inconvenience  of  the  many  people  who 
desired  shelter  that  night.  We  learned  more  of  this 
custom  as  our  experiences  multiplied  and  we  will  give 
the  reader  a  full  account  in  a  later  chapter. 

This  place  is  marked  on  the  map  of  Iceland  as 
Gey  sir.  The  word  is  from  the  verb  geysa,  "to  rush 
forth  furiously,  to  burst  out  with  violence."  It  is  not 
applied  to  all  the  spouting  springs  of  boiling  water  as 
is  geyser,  the  geological  term,  but  is  the  name  of  the 
king  of  all  the  spouting  springs  in  Iceland.  Scores 
of  these  springs  are  located  in  this  place  but  each  has 
a  special  name  which  is  appropriate  to  some  physical 
peculiarity,  such  as  Strokr,  the  churn,  the  tube  where 
the  water  rises,  falls  and  boils  vigorously  as  the  cream 
rose  and  fell  with  a  frothy  splutter  in  the  ancient  dash 
churn.  When  we  think  of  the  geysers  of  New  Zealand, 
the  Yellowstone  National  Park  or  any  place  in  Iceland 
we  must  remember  that  they  took  this  name  from 
Geysir.     There  is  only  one  Geysir. 

The  area  dominated  by  the  springs  is  directly  at 
the  foot  of  Laugarfell,  indeed  the  south  side  of  this 
mountain  once  formed  a  portion  of  the  hot  section.  This 
portion  of  the  mountain  is  void  of  every  trace  of  vege- 
tation, it  is  marked  by  ruined  geyser  mounds,  smeered 
with  sticky  clay  of  many  colors,  punctured  with  tiny 
fumaroles  whence  issue  wavering  wands  of  steam,  while 
in  many  places  rivulets  of  hot  \v;iter  break  through  the 
pasty  crust.  The  area  of  real  activity  is  about  3,000 
feet  by  1,800  feet.  The  place  is  strewn  with  frag- 
ments of  geyserite  and  bits  of  wood,  straw  and  metal, 
thinly  encrusted  with  the  mineral  deposit  from  the 
springs.  Cast  a  stick,  a  straw  or  a  bit  of  paper  where 
the  spray  will  fall  on  it  and  in  a  day  it  will  have  become 
petrified  and  cemented  to  the  rock  beneath.     The  en- 


io8  ICELAND 

tire  substratum  is  intensly  heated,  the  ground  is  in  a 
constant  tremor  which  often  accelerates  to  a  gentle 
quake.  Far  down  below  these  hissing,  silicious  tubes 
there  is  unknown  latent  heat.  For  ages  the  thermal 
capacity  of  this  place  has  been  sufficient  to  eject  untold 
millions  of  tons  of  superheated  water,  at  frequent  in- 
tervals, in  large  installments  from  these  stupendous 
safety  valves. 

We  roamed  over  the  section  several  times  with  our 
attention  always  fixed  on  Geysir  and  ready  at  the  slight- 
est warning  to  dash  madly  towards  it  should  it  con- 
descend to  favor  us  with  a  manifestation  of  its  power. 
In  the  meantime  we  plugged  the  tube  of  a  little  geyser 
with  turf  and  then  stood  aside  to  listen  to  the  heavy 
gurgle  of  reproach  which  rattled  in  its  throat  and  to 
witness  the  vomiting  of  boiling  water  to  a  height  of 
twenty-five  feet.  As  soon  as  it  got  relief  we  plugged 
it  up  again  and  as  often  as  we  administered  the  turf 
so  often  did  it  eject  it.  It  was  midnight  and  Mrs. 
Russell  had  long  since  retired,  but  the  weirdness  of  the 
place  held  sleep  aloof  from  my  eyes.  In  company  with 
a  German  I  wandered  over  the  area  again,  stood  on  the 
rim  of  Geysir  to  watch  our  shadows  in  its  depths  hoping 
for  the  occasion  to  arise  for  us  to  chase  those  shadows 
headlong  up  the  mountain  slope.  We  returned  to  the 
little  spouter  and  played  like  a  couple  of  boys.  As  a 
parting  shot  we  decided  to  give  it  an  extra  amount  of 
turf  and  to  ram  it  down  the  barrel  with  a  pole.  We 
did  this  with  so  much  success  that  we  waited  long  for 
the  discharge  but  there  was  none.  We  had  loaded  it 
too  well.  The  tube  of  our  gun  was  too  strong  to 
burst,  the  wadding  was  packed  too  tightly  for  the 
powder  to  blow  it  out.  Silently  we  sat  by  it  for  an 
hour  when  my  companion  said, — 

"  Geyser  schlaft." 

To  which  I  replied, — "Ich  will  schlafen." 


GEYSIR  109 

The  day  after  the  following  it  burst  out  with  a  fine 
jet  of  water  at  six  in  the  morning  and  spouted  without 
interruption  till  nine  when  we  rode  away.  As  we  passed 
over  the  ridge  we  looked  back  and  the  last  sight  we  had 
of  this  place  was  the  top  of  a  column  of  water  pouring 
from  this  tube.  The  extra  charge  of  turf  was  well 
worth  the  trouble. 

Morning  came  but  Geysir  had  not  erupted.  Its  sur- 
face betrayed  no  signs  of  past  disturbances  and  gave 
no  promise  for  the  future.  From  the  neighboring  farms 
we  collected  seventy  pounds  of  bar  soap  which  we  cast 
into  the  center  of  the  basin,  where  it  immediately  sank. 
We  were  told  that  during  the  day  there  would  certainly 
be  an  eruption.  The  soap  is  kept  here  expressly  for 
sale  for  this  work.  Ask  an  Icelander  what  the  agency 
of  the  soap  is  and  he  will  reply, — 

"I  do  not  know,  it  always  does  it  and  does  it  thor- 
oughly." I  venture  the  following  explanation.  Recall- 
ing that  the  accepted  idea  of  the  interior  of  a  geyser 
is  that  of  a  large  chamber  of  heated  rock  nearly  filled 
with  water  and  that  below  the  water  line  there  is  a 
tube  which  bends  down  then  upward  into  a  chamber 
in  the  rock.  The  water  becomes  superheated.  The 
steam  and  other  gases  in  the  dome  of  the  chamber  are 
under  teriffic  pressure  on  account  of  the  great  heat  and 
the  weight  of  the  column  of  water  above,  (if  one  thinks 
of  the  geyser  tube  connecting  the  underground  basin 
with  the  surface  as  the  letter  J).  When  the  pressure 
in  the  dome  over  the  water  becomes  greater  than  the 
downward  force  of  the  water  in  the  long  arm  of  the 
tube  then  there  is  an  upward  movement  through  the 
tube.  The  expanding  steam  throws  out  some  of  the 
water.  This  reduces  the  pressure  on  the  superheated 
water  in  the  basin  and  some  of  the  water  bursts  into 
steam  to  continue  the  action.  This  process  goes  on 
till  basin,  tube,  underground  chamber  and  connecting 


no  ICELAND 

tubes  are  empty.  Distant  and  cooler  underground 
waters  now  rush  in  freely  to  refill  the  system  and  time 
produces  a  repetition.  It  is  easy  to  construct  glass  ap- 
paratus in  the  laboratory  to  demonstrate  this  phenom- 
enon. But  what  of  the  soap?  This  substance  is  com- 
posed of  materials  which  quickly  break  down  into  hydro- 
carbon gases  and  increase  the  pressure  in  the  chamber, 
just  like  oil  spurted  into  the  superheater  of  a  water  gas 
machine. 

Many  of  the  boiling  springs,  spurting  jets  and 
fumaroles  are  alike  in  this  locality  but  three  of  them 
deserve  special  notice. 

Blesi,  Blaze,  as  the  white  stripe  in  a  horse's  face,  is  a 
charming  grotto.  It  is  a  double  basin  connected  with 
a  tunnel  just  beneath  a  narrow  bridge  near  the  surface. 
These  basins  are  about  thirty  feet  deep.  One  is  eight- 
een by  twelve  and  the  other  thirty  by  twenty  feet  in  the 
longest  and  shortest  diameters  respectively.  The  water 
is  wonderfully  transparent  and  the  white  silicious  lining 
of  the  grottoes  reflects  from  the  sky  the  delicate  shade 
of  blue  transforming  it  into  a  huge  cavity  of  lapislazuli. 
Blesi  is  the  traveler's  friend.  It  provides  hot  water 
for  the  bath,  cooks  his  food,  warms  his  couch  through 
the  medium  of  the  hot  water  bag  and  prepares  his 
coffee.  Many  a  leg  of  mutton,  many  a  brace  of  birds 
and  innumerable  are  the  eggs  that  have  been  faithfully 
prepared  with  its  friendly  heat.  It  is  an  easy  method 
of  cooking.  Fill  a  pail  with  eggs  and  submerge  it  till 
they  are  soft,  medium  or  hard,  the  time  required  is 
the  same  as  in  the  kitchen.  Place  the  meat  in  a  cloth 
bag  and  do  the  same.  Dip  up  the  water  and  pour  it 
upon  the  freshly  ground  berries,  lo !  the  coffee  is  pre- 
pared and  your  meal  is  ready.  This  spring  never  erupts 
but  pours  out  a  steady  stream  which  flows  down  the 
slope  to  join  the  runway  from  Geysir. 
J  Strokr  is  another  hot  spring  with  a  tube  ten  feet  in 


GEYSIR  in 

diameter  and  over  forty  feet  deep.  In  former  days  it 
was  most  accommodating  and  would  always  give  an 
exhibition  of  its  powers  if  a  couple  of  bushels  of  turf- 
were  thrown  into  the  tube.  The  response  came  in 
from  five  to  forty  minutes.  It  usually  threw  out  the 
turf  and  ejected  a  column  of  water  upwards  of  a  hun- 
dred feet.  Again  and  again  would  it  hurl  out  the 
boiling  water  until  its  underground  system  was  ex- 
hausted. Some  years  since  a  party  of  gentlemen,  French 
I  believe,  desirous  of  obtaining  an  extra  high  spout 
threw  many  stones  into  the  tube  on  top  of  the  turf. 
The  geyser  siphon  was  doubtless  broken  or  at  least  frac- 
tured so  that  superheated  steam  can  not  be  stored,  for 
Strokr  spouts  no  more.  It  boils  furiously  all  the  time 
with  dense  clouds  of  steam  and  the  water  rises  and  falls 
in  the  tube  in  the  most  violent  manner.  In  looking 
into  the  tube  one  is  impressed  with  the  idea  that  there 
are  safer  places,  as  it  seems  if  Strokr  were  about  to 
mount  into  the  sky  to  challenge  Geysir  which  has  so 
long  held  the  palm. 

Geysir  is  the  main  attraction.  The  first  mention  of 
this  phenomenon  in  literature  is  in  the  History  of  Nor> 
way  written  by  Saxo  Gramaticus,  who  lived  between 
i  t  50  and  1206,  so  that  it  has  been  active  for  over  seven 
centuries.  It  has  built  for  itself  a  mound  of  geyserite 
many  feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain  and  has  the  ap- 
pearance of  an  inverted  oyster  shell  in  its  series  of  ter- 
races. This  mound  increases  with  each  eruption  by  the 
addition  of  a  film  of  salts  held  in  solution  in  the  boil- 
ing water.  The  spring  is  in  the  form  of  a  saucer  with 
the  inward  sloping  side  at  an  angle  of  thirty  degrees. 
The  diameter  of  this  saucer  is  nearly  seventy  feet  and 
the  saucer  is  a  true  circle.  Within  a  saucer  there  is  a  de- 
pression at  the  bottom,  a  ring  to  hold  the  cup.  Within 
the  center  of  Geysi/s  saucer  there  is  an  opening,  ten 
feet    in    diameter,    which    extends    straight    down    to 


ii2  ICELAND 

the  depth  of  eighty-four  feet.  Beyond  this  the 
plumb  will  not  go.  Whether  there  are  deeper  rami- 
fications of  tubes  or  not  is  a  matter  of  conjecture 
unless  the  explanation  of  geyser  action  above  of- 
fered is  correct.  Again,  the  shape  of  Geysir  is  that 
of  a  funnel,  i.  e.  a  tube  running  downward  from  a 
flaring  reservoir  at  the  top.  During  the  irregular 
periods  between  the  eruptions,  the  water  wells  upwards 
in  the  center  and  overflows  the  rim  of  the  basin  through 
a  foot  square  opening  in  the  side.  This  opening  has 
been  shaped  by  the  farmer  of  Haukadalr  to  confine 
the  escaping  hot  water  to  one  channel.  The  water  is 
heavily  charged  with  minerals  in  solution.  An  English 
analysis  of  a  gallon  of  the  water  yielded  the  follow- 
ing:— 

Sodium   carbonate,    5.56  grains 

Aluminum  oxid,    2.80 

Silica, 3I-38 

Sodium  chlorid, 14-42 

Sodium  sulfate,    8.57 

Total  solids, 62.73 

During  eruptions  large  volumes  of  carbon  dioxid  and 
some  hydrogen  sulfid  and  a  little  free  hydrogen  are 
emitted.  In  1909  my  maximum  recording  thermo- 
meter was  lowered  to  a  depth  of  eighty  feet  and  the 
temperature  was  110C,  or  230  degrees  on  the  Fahren- 
heit scale. 

Words  convey  but  a  meager  idea  of  the  magnificence 
of  this  geyser  during  eruption,  or  the  awe  with  which 
it  inspires  the  witness  of  its  extraordinary  display  of 
power.  It  was  six-thirty  in  the  evening,  eight  hours  af- 
ter we  had  administered  the  emetic  of  soap.  Not  a  cloud 
dimmed  the  blueness  of  the  sky  and  no  air  was  stir- 
ring.   The  glaciers  of  Lang  Jokull,  the  long  ice-covered 


GEYSIR  113 

mountain,  loomed  beyond  the  plain  of  the  Hvitd,  White- 
River,  the  dome  of  Hekla,  Hooded,  had  momentarily 
lost  its  cloud  mantle,  all  the  little  geysers  and  fumaroles 
were  boiling  merrily  and  steaming  furiously.  Even 
quiet  Blesi  was  sending  up  showers  of  carbon  dioxid 
bubbles.  The  signs  were  favorable  for  an  exhibition 
and  the  people  were  gathered  close  about  the  Inn  in 
expectation.  What  the  condition  of  the  air  has  to  do 
with  the  eruption,  I  do  not  suggest.  Icelanders  fa- 
miliar with  Geysir  state  that  "when  the  wind  is  from 
the  north  there  is  never  an  eruption."  I  can  only  add 
that  during  our  first  eighteen  hours  at  this  place  we  had 
a  strong  wind  from  the  north  and  no  eruption. 

We  were  at  supper.  The  ground  trembled,  the 
building  vibrated  and  a  dull  rumbling  reached  the 
ears. 

"Geysir!  Geysirf"  rose  the  cry  from  within  and 
without  the  building.  The  supper  was  never  finished. 
Johannes,  who  had  been  watching  for  these  first  signs 
ever  since  we  had  administered  the  emetic,  met  us  as 
we  sprang  to  the  doorway.  Everyone  rushed  to  the 
elevation  across  from  Geysir* s  runway.  Again  the  rum- 
ble, heavier  than  before.  The  water  is  agitated  in  the 
basin,  it  boils  up  suddenly,  subsides,  the  earth  beneath 
our  feet  trembles  and  a  mass  of  steaming  water  rises 
in  the  center  of  the  basin  to  an  elevation  of  fifteen  feet 
and  overflows  the  rim  with  a  noisy  splash.  Then  all 
is  quiet.  Is  this  what  we  had  travelled  forty  miles  out 
of  our  way  to  see?  Truly  a  great  fuss  for  nothing. 
Is  this  the  wonderful  Geysir  whose  manifestation  of 
power  had  caused  the  devout  Henderson  to  fall  upon 
his  knees  and  to  pour  out  his  "soul  in  solemn  adoration 
of  the  Almighty  Author  of  nature,  'who  looketh  on  the 
earth,  and  it  trembled;  who  toucheth  the  hills,  and  they 
smoke?'  Does  Geysir  demand  more  tribute  in  soap? 
A  few  moments  of  quiet  expectation  followed.     Then, 


ii4  ICELAND 

without  further  warning,  a  column  of  superheated  wa- 
ter, ten  feet  in  diameter,  shot  like  a  rocket  into  the  air 
the  height  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  feet  and 
the   abysmal    forces   maintained   that  column   for  nine 
/minutes.    What  a  flood  of  water  poured  down  the  slop- 
ing cone !     What  a  fountain  !     Mark  Twain  said  that 
they  "have  real  fountains  in  Eurpoe  but  in  America 
they  only  leak."     What  would  he  have  said  could  he 
have  witnessed  this  display?    The  roar  of  falling  water 
filled  the  air  to  the  exclusion  of  all  voices  and  flowed 
in  hissing  cascades  down  the  slope,  into  the  ravine  and 
across  the  meadow  to  the  river.     The  sheep  fled  be- 
fore the  advancing  column  of  steam  and  from  a  dis- 
tance gazed  with  a  foolish  stare  at  a  spectacle  that  they 
had  often  witnessed.     Volume  upon  volume  of  steam, 
like  the   cauliflower-shaped   clouds  of  active  Vesuvius, 
belched  into  the  air  expanding  under  the  reduced  press- 
ure and  filled  the  air  to  the  shutting  out  of  the  sun. 
Fountains   of   foam  well   over  the  brink.      Explosion 
follows  explosion  and  still  that  lofty  tower  of  boiling 
water  stands  erect  and  masses  of  water  fall  to  earth 
with  a  terrific  crash.     The  column  wavers,  totters,  falls. 
The  eruption  is  over,  the  steam  clouds  lift  and  we  rush 
up  the  dripr>ing  slope  of  geyserite,  step  over  the  rim 
into  the   hot  basin   and   peer  down   into   these   depths 
whence  came  those  rivers  of  water.     The  heat  pene- 
trates the  thick  soles  of  the  riding  boots  but  we  walk 
to  the  e(^^  of  the  tube  and  gaze  down  into  the  si77lin£ 
throat  of  the  monster.     A  mass  of  foam  is  over  the 
bottom,  eifrhrv  feet  below.     It  rises,  we  watch  its  ascent 
of  the  rube  with  the  pace  of  a  flv  up  a  wall.     Tt  reaches 
the  iunetion  of  the  tube  with  the  bottom  of  the  basin 
ind  we  nhotoorranh  it,  lust  a  mass  of  fonm  with  ascend- 
*nfr  steam.      Tt  wells   over  into  the  basin   and  we   re- 
treat       Soon   the  hnsin   is   full   and  overflows  normallv 
ind   the   only  evidence   of  the   change  that  has   taken 


Bridge  River,  Bruard,  near  Gey  sir. 


The    Tube   of   Geysir   Filling,    Photographed   from 
within  the  rim  of  the  Basin. 


- 


GEYSTR  115 

place  is  the  dripping  cone  and  the  steam  rising  from 
the  brook  as  it  rushes  to  cool  itself  in  the  icy  river. 

During  the  eruption  T  caught  a  glimpse  of  a  dark- 
object  in  the  steam  which  fell  with  a  thud  upon  the 
grass.  After  the  display  and  the  basin  had  filled  T 
sought  that  spot  and  found  a  mass  of  geyserite  twelve 
inches  square  and  two  inches  thick.  It  was  still  hot. 
It  is  perforated  with  steam  tubes  in  every  direction.  T 
stowed  it  in  the  packing  case  and  it  is  now  in  the 
Science  Museum  at  Springfield,  Mass. 

At  nine  thirty  that  evening  we  were  again  treated  to 
the  same  phenomenon  by  Geysir  and  again  at  six  the 
following  morning.  Three  magnificent  ejections  at  a 
cost  of  only  ten  dollars  worth  of  soap.  It  was  worth 
much  more.  The  final  displav  was  the  finest  of  the 
three  and  lasted  ten  minutes.  We  were  dressing  when 
the  cry  of  "Geysir!"  again  reached  the  Tnn.  What 
did  it  matter  that  the  toilet  was  not  finished!  Travel- 
lers from  Denmark,  Sweden,  Norway,  America,  Ger- 
many and  distant  parts  of  Iceland  were  there  to  see 
Geysir  spout  and  not  to  be  fastidious  about  coiffure  and 
raiment.  We  all  assembled  hastily  at  the  brink,  each 
unconscious  of  the  others'  presence  until  the  display 
was  over.  Then!  What  a  startled  and  confused  com- 
pany! Several  were  clad  only  in  sleeping  costumes, 
some  had  put  on  one  stocking  and  were  holding  a  shoe 
and  a  stocking  in  the  hand,  some  dragged  a  skirt  bv  the 
band  and  still  others  trailed  their  pantaloons  bv  the 
suspenders.  One  man  held  his  shirt  bv  the  sleeve  and 
had  one  leg  in  his  trousers  while  the  other  was  innocent 
of  all  clothing.  There  were  Icelandic  matrons  and 
maidens  barefooted,  some  with  a  skirt  wrapped  around 
them  and  others  with  a  sheet.  Rows  of  discarded  gar- 
ments marked  the  wav  from  the  Tnn  to  the  mound  and 
during  the  retreat,  which  was  a  blushing  and  precipitous 
one,  each  caught  from  the  grass  the  clothes  that  had 


n6  ICELAND 

fallen  during  the  advance.  Ludicrous  describes  it  well, 
but  every  one  was  happy  and  during  the  breakfast 
which  followed  the  confusion  was  forgotten. 

Standing  upon  the  rim  of  the  great  basin  and  gazing 
at  the  azure  surface  the  peacefulness  of  the  scene  belies 
the  turbulence  of  the  hour  before.  In  the  distance 
Lang  Jokull  glistens  in  the  brilliant  sunshine.  Yonder, 
across  the  Hvitd,  cloud-capped  and  snowy-mantled 
Hekla  rises  grand  and  lonely  above  its  lava-wasted 
plain.  Around  us  the  numerous  springs  and  fumaroles 
emit  their  endless  columns  of  vapor  and  Strokr  moans 
and  groans.  The  little  geyser  which  we  packed  with 
turf  two  nights  ago  has  been  spouting  without  interrup- 
tion for  two  hours.  What  a  contrast!  Arctic  ice  and 
Plutonic  fire  battling  for  supremacy  as  they  have  done 
for  ages  in  this  land  of  strange  confusion, — and  still 
the  conflict  wages.  Loth  are  we  to  turn  from  this 
manifestation  of  power  and  imposing  grandeur  of 
Geysir,  even  in  his  hours  of  rest,  but  Gullfoss  lies  be- 
yond the  Tunguflojt,  the  Thjorsd  and  the  Olfusd  must 
be  forded,  Hekla  challenges  from  the  midst  of  his 
desolation,  the  peaceful  pastoral  plains  of  the  south  are 
calling,  the  weird  and  frightful  solfataras  of  Krisuvik 
entice, — and  we  must  saddle  and  away. 


CHAPTER  IX 

GULLFOSS 

A  mighty  rift  within  the  rock 

Rent  ages  since  by  earthquake  shock, 

Where  Hvita's  frenzied  stream 
Down  plunges  with  the  thunder's  roar 
Upon   the    canyon's    basalt    floor 

'Twixt  walls  of  golden  sheen, 
With  rainbows  arching  over  all, — 
It  wins  the  name  of  Golden  Fall. 


—R. 


IT  requires  an  effort  of  the  will  to  leave  Geysir. 
There  is  a  fascination  in  this  heated  area  that 
like  the  sirens  in  Ulysses'  tale.  We  mounted  in  the 
wind-driven  spray  of  the  little  geyser  and  turned 
towards  the  Tungufljot,  several  tributaries  of  which 
had  to  be  forded.  The  quicksands  are  frequent  in  these 
streams  and  must  be  avoided.  Many  ponies  have 
foundered  in  them  and  brought  their  riders  to  grief. 
The  grass  plains  are  freely  sprinkled  with  flowers  and 
as  we  left  the  geyser  region  behind,  the  cottongrass, 
Eriophorum  an gusti folium,  reappeared.  This  plant 
waves  its  white  tassel  in  all  the  Icelandic  meadows, 
sometimes  so  abundantly  as  to  make  the  distant  area 
appear  like  a  patch  of  snow.  It  is  entirely  absent  in 
soil  that  is  under  the  influence  of  any  of  the  hot  springs. 
The  meadows  through  which  we  passed  are  excellent 
grass  lands  and  the  hay  harvest  was  in  progress.  The 
men  were  swinging  the  short  scythe,  the  women  raking 
and  the  boys  and  ponies  carrying  the  bundles  of  hay  to 
the  stacks. 

Gullfoss,  Golden-Fall,  is  distant  ten  miles  from 
Geysir.  The  trail  leads  over  a  very  boggy  country,  es- 
pecially after  the  crossing  of  the  Tungufljot.  A  good 
bridge  now  spans  the  main  river.     It  was  a  large  and 

117 


n8  ICELAND 

merry  cavalcade  that  spread  out  upon  the  rising  ground 
in  the  bog  above  the  river.  All  the  guests  at  Geysir, 
satisfied  with  having  seen  the  eruptions,  were  bent  upon 
improving  the  opportunity  to  visit  the  famous  falls. 
The  section  of  bog,  to  which  we  have  referred,  is  on 
an  upland  slope  and  it  is  filled  with  ruts,  hummocks 
and  moss  sponges.  The  hummocks  are  crowned  with 
several  species  of  Juncus,  the  cotton-grass  points  out 
the  moss  sponges  and  the  slimy  algae  locate  the  wettest 
spaces.  The  older  ponies  with  eyes  and  nose  alert  al- 
ways avoid  the  sloughs.  If  there  is  evidence  of  the 
recent  passage  of  a  pony,  another  will  confidently  fol- 
low. It  is  interesting  to  watch  these  little  fellows  sniff- 
ing the  ground  and  testing  it  with  the  fore  feet  when  no 
foot  marks  point  a  sure  way.  Leave  the  rein  loose 
upon  the  neck,  curb  your  impatience  and  trust  the  pony 
to  keep  out  of  a  bog;  urge  him  to  take  a  short  cut  or 
to  increase  his  chosen  pace,  and  horse  and  rider  are  sure 
to  become  stuck  in  the  bog,  a  bad  predicament.  Some 
English  writers  describe  this  passage  as  most  difficult 
and  dangerous.  Take  a  local  guide  from  Haukadalr 
and  let  no  traveller  who  reaches  Geysir  forbear  a  visit 
to  Gullfoss  on  account  of  the  bog.  The  passage  is  not 
so  very  bad  and  the  falls  are  worth  much  more  than 
the  effort. 

At  the  summit  of  the  hill,  across  the  muddy  area, 
we  paused  to  view  the  scene  below.  The  Tiingnfljot 
drains  the  southern  slopes  of  Lang  Jokull,  its  three 
great  arms  thrust  downward  through  the  alluvial  plains, 
a  mighty  trident  of  hydraulic  power,  forced  by  the  melt- 
ing glaciers  during  the  continuous  shine  of  the  summer 
sun.  It  is  a  delightful  view, — the  luxuriant  green  be- 
low crossed  by  the  silver  threads  of  the  rivers,  the 
whiteness  oi  the  glaciers  across  the  valley  and  the  steam 
clouds  hovering  over  the  heated  area. 

We  turned  to  the  north  where  the  thunders  of  the 


GULLFOSS  119 

falls  boomed  from  beyond  the  cliffs  and  the  mists  glist- 
ened high  in  the  air.  No  falls,  not  even  the  river  is 
visible,  they  are  embedded  in  the  canyon  a  mile  beyond. 
The  crashing  roar  of  the  water  increased  and  turning 
an  angle  of  the  clirts  the  steeds  paused  upon  the  brink 
of  the  Hvitd  canyon.  The  full  glory  of  the  falls  burst 
upon  us  radiant  in  its  sheaf  of  rainbows.  Leaving  the 
ponies  to  graze  upon  the  brink,  we  descended  the  crumb- 
ling wall  to  the  level  of  the  triangular  area  within  the 
canyon.  This  grassy,  mist-washed  mass  of  rock  is  on 
a  level  with  the  top  of  the  lower  falls,  the  real  plunge 
of  the  Hvitd  into  the  lava  abyss.  As  far  as  the  mass 
of  water  is  concerned  this  fall  is  the  largest,  not  only 
in  Iceland  but  in  all  Europe.  Its  rival,  the  Dettifoss, 
Drop-Falls,  has  a  deeper  canyon,  a  higher  fall  but  there 
is  not  so  great  a  mass  of  water.  This  waterfall  is  on 
the  Jokulsd,  Ice-Mountain-River,  in  the  northeast  of 
Iceland.  The  canyon  of  the  Hvitd  is  V-shaped,  about 
fifty  feet  wide  at  the  top  and  not  more  than  a  dozen 
feet  at  the  bottom.  Most  of  the  waterfalls  in  Iceland 
are  formed,  like  the  Oxerd,  by  a  river  falling  into  a 
Gjd,  rift,  from  the  side  of  the  canyon.  In  the  case  of 
the  Gullfoss  the  water  falls  into  the  end  of  the  canyon, 
for  this  great  rift  begins  at  the  falls.  Just  above  the 
main  falls  the  water  rushes  over  a  series  of  ledges, 
columnar  basalt  bluffs,  fifteen  hundred  feet  wide  and 
fifty  feet  high.  The  space  between  these  falls  and 
the  main  plunge  is  short.  Here  the  water  runs  wide 
and  deep  with  a  troubled  surface,  fretted  with  foam 
and  impatient  for  the  approaching  plunge  into  the  un- 
fathomed  depth. 

A  huge  mass  of  rock  divides  the  main  falls  at  the 
top  with  about  one  hundred  feet  in  width  of  water  on 
each  side.  It  is  from  this  point  that  H.  Rider  Haggard 
in  Eric  Brighteycs  causes  the  hero  to  descend  into  the 
canon  of  the  Hvitd  to  swim  to  the  lower  end  in  order 


120  ICELAND 

to  win  the  hand  of  GudruSr,  the  Fair.  Of  all  the 
strange  and  imaginative  tales  which  this  writer  has 
related  this  is  the  most  improbable.  The  water  upon 
the  brink  of  the  two  arms  of  the  falls  is  eighty  feet 
deep  and  the  plunge  into  the  canyon  is  not  less  than  two 
hundred.  What  a  water  power  and  no  syndicate  to 
control  it! 

The  true  falls  can  not  be  photographed.  The  trian- 
gular plot  upon  which  we  have  been  standing  is  within 
the  canyon  and  the  walls  rise  above  us  to  the  height  of 
about  two  hundred  feet.  Above  us  the  palisaded  but- 
tresses, drenched  with  spray,  glisten  in  the  morning  sun 
and  hanging  over  the  chasm  frown  upon  the  river  below 
as  if  threatening  to  prevent  its  escape.  The  imprisoned 
waters  boil  and  foam  in  their  mad  contention  with  the 
walls  ragingly  impatient  of  their  restriction,  anxious 
to  escape  to  the  rural  calmness  of  the  southern  plains. 
So  mighty  is  the  mass  of  water,  so  narrow  are  the  depths 
into  which  it  hurls  itself  that  one  must  believe  that  sub- 
terranean passages  exist  or  the  lava  rift  would  fill  and 
quickly  choke  itself  to  overflowing.  It  is  possible  that 
these  hidden  rifts,  results  of  earthquakes,  supply  the 
water  for  the  hot  springs  far  away.  Perhaps  the  ram- 
ifications of  great  Geysir's  underground  system  reach 
even  to  the  foot  of  this  canon,  even  as  one  end  of  the 
drinking  horn,  out  of  which  Thor  drank  in  the  halls  of 
Utgard-Loki,  was  placed  in  the  sea,  so  that  Thor  lost 
his  wager  by  being  unable  to  empty  the  horn  at  a 
single  draught. 

Grim,  grand  and  glorious  is  the  Foss,  surpassing 
Niagara  in  scenic  environment.  Under  suitable  condi- 
tions Niagara  has  its  well-known  rainbow,  but  Gullfoss 
has  several  of  them  arching  the  waters  one  above  the 
other  in  the  dense  volume  of  spray  that  is  hurled  two 
hundred  and  fifty  feet  above  the  surface  of  the  stream. 
If  the  fabled  pot  of  gold  at  the  foot  of  the  rainbow 


GULLFOSS  121 

arch  is  to  be  obtained  anywhere,  it  must  be  sought  for 
in  this  place,  for  within  the  walls  of  the  upper  canyon 
the  rainbows  end.  One  may  pass  through  them  and  even 
stand  at  the  springing  of  the  prismatic  arch  if  he  is 
willing  to  take  the  drenching  of  the  down-pouring  floods 
of  spray,  like  sheets  of  water  in  a  New  England  thun- 
der storm.  Grand  as  is  the  Gullfoss,  its  setting  is  even 
more  impressive.  Above  the  plain  Lang  Jokull 
stretches  forty  miles  across  the  horizon,  lifting  its 
unexplored  surface  of  adamantine  ice  high  in  air,  a 
perpetual  challenge  to  him  who  would  search  the  un- 
known. At  its  base  and  near  at  hand  Hvitdvatn,  White- 
River-Lake,  the  source  of  the  river,  carries  a  fleet  of 
icebergs  upon  its  sun-lit  surface.  In  the  perpetual  sun- 
light of  Iceland's  summer  months  this  vast  icefield  dis- 
charges constant  floods  down  its  cliffs.  Hence  the  Hvitd 
starts  upon  its  turbulent  course  to  the  sea  a  full-grown 
river  laden  with  glacial  clay.  Towards  the  east  the 
peaks  of  Kerlingafjdll,  Old-Woman-Peaks,  arrest  the 
eye,  around  whose  skirts  hot  springs  are  scattered  send- 
ing up  a  mass  of  vapor  like  incense  to  the  heroic  gods 
of  Scandinavian  mythology. 

The  thunders  of  Gullfoss  diminished  as  we  followed 
the  brink  of  its  canyon  southward  and  descended  into 
the  stony  waste  of  Biskuptungur,  Bishop's-Tongue,  a 
tongue-shaped  mass  of  fertile  land  in  the  valley  of  the 
Tungufljot  formerly  belonging  to  a  bishop.  Here  the 
foaming  of  its  silt-laden  stream  was  the  only  evidence 
of  the  recent  travail  of  the  Hvitd.  Of  the  twenty  travel- 
lers in  the  party  from  Geysir  all  had  returned  except 
one,  a  German  who  stayed  with  us  till  we  reached 
Skipholt,  Ship-Ridge.  On  the  way  he  told  us  of  an 
amusing  experience  he  had  had  with  the  Icelandic  pony. 
During  the  first  hour  of  his  ride  he  wished  to  stop  and 
repeatedly  shouted  "Whoa !"  The  pony  only  went 
the  faster  and  finally  ran  away  with  him.     He  stated 


122  ICELAND 

that  he  had  ridden  horseback  in  many  lands  and  no  mat- 
ter what  language  was  spoken  this  was  the  first  country 
where  "whoa!"  did  not  mean  "stop."  Hot  or  hoa  is 
the  Icelandic  word  at  which  a  pony  starts  quickly  into 
a  trot  or  gallop  and  the  sound  so  much  resembles 
"whoa"  that  the  pony  was  doing  his  best  to  be  obedient. 

About  noon  we  regained  the  trail  that  leads  from 
Geysir  across  the  Hvitd  towards  Hekla.  And  again  we 
found  pleasure  in  the  earlier  visit  of  the  King,  for  a 
good  bridge  has  been  constructed  across  the  Hvitd  at 
this  place.  This  is  one  of  the  worst  of  the  Icelandic 
rivers  to  ford  and  many  people  have  been  drowned  in 
the  attempt.  A  few  miles  through  a  delightful  country 
brought  us  to  Skipholt  which  we  found  to  be  a  model 
farm.  It  is  one  of  the  best  in  Iceland.  During  the 
visit  of  the  King  in  1907  he  was  so  well  pleased  with 
the  conditions  at  this  farm  that  he  presented  the  owner 
with  a  medal  in  the  form  of  a  cross  for  the  excellence 
of  his  work  and  the  skill  he  had  displayed  in  the  con- 
struction of  the  buildings  and  in  the  management  of 
his  flocks  and  herds.  It  was  the  wish  of  the  King  that 
it  might  prove  an  incentive  to  the  neighboring  farmers 
to  do  their  best  to  imitate  their  more  prosperous  neigh- 
bor. 

It  was  Sunday  and  no  work  was  in  progress.  We 
left  the  ponies  in  the  lane  and  went  up  to  the  house 
where  we  received  a  cordial  welcome  and  the  farmer's 
wife  set  before  us  an  excellent  dinner.  With  a  mixture 
of  English,  German  and  French  we  conversed  for  an 
hour  over  the  dinner  with  our  German  companion  who 
proved  to  be  a  professor  at  Berlin  but  spoke  no  Eng- 
lish. The  landlady  beamed  upon  us,  all  the  while  con- 
scious of  our  difficulties  and  had  it  not  been  for  the 
Icelandic  reserve  I  have  no  doubt  that  she  would  have 
proved  a  good  interpreter.  It  was  not  till  later  that 
we  discovered  that  many  of  these  people  can  speak  sev- 


GULLFOSS  123 

eral  languages.  The  biscuit,  pastry,  griddlecakes,  mut- 
ton and  coffee  were  excellent  as  well  as  the  butter,  cheese 
and  milk  and  it  did  seem,  by  other  standards,  as  if 
we  had  eaten  more  than  the  value  of  twenty-five  cents 
each,  which  was  the  charge. 

At  Skipholt  there  is  an  excellent  set  of  buildings 
mostly  made  of  wood,  the  turf  walls  are  in  prime  re- 
pair, the  fields  free  from  stones  and  smooth,  smoothness 
being  a  rare  condition  of  Icelandic  mowing  fields,  the 
Hocks  are  large  and  the  cattle  numerous.  It  is  the  only 
farm  in  the  country  where  I  have  seen  running  water 
supplied  to  the  stables.  I  must  add  that  there  are  other 
farms  in  the  north  which  the  King  did  not  visit  that 
are  as  prosperous  as  Skipholt.  This  was  the  best  one 
that  he  visited.  If  he  had  gone  to  Skutustadir,  Kal- 
muugstihiga  or  Miklibaer  he  would  also  have  found 
praiseworthy  conditions  and  no  doubt  would  have  re- 
warded, at  least  with  a  word  of  praise,  the  industrious 
farmers  at  these  steads. 

Bidding  the  bonde  and  the  good-wife  at  Skipholt 
good  bye  and  receiving  in  return  their  hearty  godr  a  da- 
ginn  we  turned  towards  Hniiii.  Our  German  com- 
panion continued  southward  to  Skalholt  and  we  left  the 
road  to  climb  the  series  of  ridges  between  the  valleys 
of  the  Hvitd  and  the  Laxd,  Salmon-River.  The  ponies 
picked  their  way  over  ridge  after  ridge  of  lava  crags 
with  alternate  ascent  and  descent.  In  some  places  the 
declivities  were  so  steep  that  it  was  difficult  to  retain  our 
seat  in  the  pommelless  saddles.  The  surcingles  were  old 
and  cracked  and  we  put  little  trust  in  them.  However, 
they  held,  else  we  would  have  experienced  a  very  un- 
dignified descent.  I  have  seen  hundreds  of  saddles  and 
bridles  in  Iceland  and  never  have  I  seen  a  new  one.  I 
often  wondered  if  they  were  ever  new.  It  is  remarkable 
that  they  seldom  break.  As  we  climbed  the  last  ridge 
we  met  a  barebacked  rider,  a  tall,  sun-browned  shep- 


124  ICELAND 

herd  carrying  a  lost  lamb  in  his  bosom  with  its  head 
protruding  above  the  rider's  arm  and  the  well  known 
words  of  Elizabeth  Clephane's  hymn  came  to  our 
lips, — 

"But  all  thro'  the  mountains  thunder  riven 

And  up  from  the  rocky  steep, 
There  rose  a  cry  to  the  gate  of  heaven, 

'Rejoice!     I  have  found  my  sheep. 


>  >j 


It  was  five  in  the  evening  when  we  mounted  the  last 
ridge  and  looked  down  upon  Hruni.  It  was  one  of  the 
fairest  sights  I  have  ever  witnessed, — the  basin-shaped 
valley  of  verdure  surrounded  by  lofty  ridges,  the  thou- 
sand sheep  scattered  upon  the  hillsides  and  through  the 
meadow,  the  group  of  houses  which  constitute  the  farm 
buildings,  and  the  little  church  across  the  yard,  the 
steam  rising  from  some  hot  springs  near  the  dwellings, 
the  hundreds  of  haycocks  waiting  for  the  morrow  to 
be  taken  to  the  stacks,  the  songs  of  the  maidens  driving 
the  cows  home  from  the  pasture, — a  picture  of  prosper- 
ity and  of  peace.  Surely  this  is  not  Iceland  or  else  the 
name  is  a  misnomer. 

It  cost  us  an  hour  to  pick  our  way  across  the  hassocky 
bog,  luxuriant  with  rushes,  sedges,  and  cotton-grass.  No 
frog  croaks  in  the  Iceland  marshes  and  no  reptile  ever 
glides  through  the  sheltering  grass,  they  are  unknown. 
It  seemed  as  if  we  might  reach  the  house  in  ten  minutes 
but  it  took  an  hour.  We  learned  that  to  approach 
an  Icelandic  farmhouse  it  is  usually  necessary  to  ride 
around  it  in  a  wide  detour.  Bogs,  streams,  fences  or 
hot  areas  seem  ever  to  lie  between  the  house  and  the 
place  where  the  traveller  first  sees  it.  During  our  cir- 
cuit we  saw  a  flaxen  haired,  barefooted  lad  seated  upon 
a  hummock  with  a  book  and  a  bundle  of  plants  by  his 
side.  A  dog  was  with  him  and  two  others  watched  the 
sheep  from  distant  points,  reclining  with  noses  between 


GULLFOSS  125 

their  feet  with  eyes  alert  for  any  change  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  feeding  sheep.  If  a  group  of  them  started 
towards  the  mowing  land  the  dog  spoke  once  or  twice 
and  if  the  sheep  did  not  turn  he  trotted  nearer  and 
spoke  again  in  a  more  determined  tone.  The  sheep 
obeyed  and  the  dog  returned  to  his  vantage  point.  I 
dismounted  when  the  boy  saluted  us  and  shook  hands 
with  him  and  returned  the  Icelandic  salutation.  I  ex- 
amined the  handful  of  flowers  and  noticed  that  some 
of  them  were  partially  dissected.  Reaching  for  the 
worn  and  faded  book  I  discovered  that  it  was  a  Manual 
of  the  Icelandic  Flora  and  that  it  was  written  entirely 
in  Latin.  A  lad  of  twelve  or  thirteen  years  of  age;  his 
task,  the  keeping  of  a  thousand  sheep  with  no  fences 
beyond  the  immediate  farm  enclosure;  his  recreation, 
the  study  of  botany  through  the  medium  of  Latin.  Of 
such  boys  are  the  Icelandic  scholars  made,  not  through 
the  medium  of  costly  buildings,  fine  equipment,  luxuri- 
ous homes,  indulgent  parents,  theaters,  parties  and  secret 
societies,  but  through  the  wiser  agencies  of  paternal 
love  that  sternly  upholds  usefulness,  interest  in  study 
for  the  love  of  knowledge.  Though  barefoot  and  clad 
in  vaSmal,  the  Icelandic  lad  will  obtain  an  education 
that  surpasses  the  products  of  the  endowed  institu- 
tions of  other  lands. 

At  six  in  the  afternoon  we  were  welcomed  in  the 
guest  room  of  the  pastor's  home.  Kjartan  Helgason 
farmer  and  minister,  labors  six  days  upon  his  large  farm 
and  on  the  seventh  preaches  in  two  different  churches, 
riding  several  miles  to  meet  his  distant  parishoners.  He 
came  soon  after  our  arrival  and  welcomed  us  with  a 
cordial,  honest  welcome.  That  Icelandic  welcome!  It 
comes  from  the  heart  and  the  handshake  conveys  more 
than  words  can  express.  Hospitality  was  a  sacred  word 
in  ancient  Scandinavia  and  though  but  a  filmy  covering 
for  hypocrisy  in  many  more  favored  lands,  in  Iceland 


126  ICELAND 

the  essence  is  maintained.  Welcome !  How  often  we 
say  it  and  hear  it  and  do  not  know  the  meaning.  We 
welcome  some  long  absent  loved  one.  Is  it  the  same 
when  we  welcome  a  neighbor  or  a  frequent  visitor? 
What  about  the  welcome  accorded  to  a  total  stranger 
who  brings  us  nothing  but  extra  work,  who  calls  us 
from  our  necessary  task,  who  eats  our  choicest  viands, 
who  uses  our  guest  chamber,  consumes  our  time  with 
questions  that  pry  into  our  very  secrets?  Would  you 
know  the  meaning  of  this  ancient  word  you  must  see  it 
exemplified  as  a  dependent  stranger  in  a  strange  land. 
Vel-kominn,  well-come,  it  is  good  that  you  have  come. 
Unless  this  meaning  rings  in  the  sound  and  bristles 
in  our  every  act  it  is  better  that  we  drop  from  our 
vocabulary  this  word  which  we  have  borrowed  from  an 
ancient  race.  Not  alone  at  Hruni  did  we  hear  and  feel 
Vel-kominn  but  in  every  household  from  the  humblest 
peasant  on  the  borders  of  the  desert  to  the  homes  of 
the  highest  in  the  land,  even  the  professors  at  the 
University,  the  venerable  poet  of  the  north  and  the 
Prime  Minister  in  his  mansion. 

The  Icelandic  Sunday  ends  at  six  in  the  afternoon. 
When  we  came  from  the  house  after  supper  we  were 
astonished  to  see  the  farm  maids  going  to  the  fields 
with  their  ropes  and  rakes,  the  mowers  sharpening  their 
scythes  and  the  general  bustle  of  a  work  day.  Inquiry 
of  the  pastor  revealed  to  us  the  custom.  The  method 
of  sharpening  the  scythe  is  unique.  The  Icelandic  boy 
does  not  have  to  turn  the  stone  while  a  strong  man 
leans  his  weight  upon  the  scythe  and  slides  it  back  and 
forth  across  the  revolving  stone.  As  a  boy  I  always  re- 
garded the  turning  of  the  stone  as  a  man's  job  and  I 
still  think  so.  Many  disagreeable  tasks  on  the  farm  arc 
given  to  the  boy  just  because  he  is  a  box .  In  Iceland 
the  blade  is  placed  on  a  flat  piece  of  steel  and  the  edge 
slips  under  a  presscr-foot  like  that  on  a  sewing  machine. 


GULLFOSS  127 

A  rod  of  steel  with  a  square  end  and  a  half  inch  in 
diameter  is  placed  perpendicularly  upon  the  hlade  be- 
tween the  claws  of  the  presser-foot  and  is  struck  a 
smart  blow  with  a  hammer.  The  blade  is  slowly  ad- 
vanced under  the  repeated  blows.  The  blade  is  thus 
hammered  into  an  edge  rather  than  ground.  T  noticed 
the  custom  throughout  the  country.  At  Hruni  there 
was  a  machine  worked  with  a  treadle  and  cam  that 
did  the  pounding  while  the  operator  slowl  advanced 
the  blade.  Two  days  later  T  met  a  gentleman  from 
Worcester,  Massachusetts,  to  whom  T  mentioned  this 
method.  He  had  not  seen  it  and  was  doubtful  of  the 
accuracy  of  my  observations.  While  we  were  discussing 
it  there  came  from  the  back  of  the  buildings  the  sharp 
clink-clink-clink  of  the  steel  and  he  was  soon  convinced 
by  observation  that  T  was  not  joking.  The  whetstone 
is  used  in  the  same  way  as  with  the  American  farmer. 
It  was  interesting  to  note  that  all  the  scythestones  in  the 
country  were  made  in  New  Hampshire,  U.  S.  A. 
These  stones  are  shipped  to  Denmark,  resold  by  the 
Danish  merchant  and  shipped  to  Iceland;  the  Icelandic 
trader  sells  them  to  the  farmer.  The  farmer  then  p;1 
a  price  that  is  just  half  of  what  the  New  England  farmer 
pavs  for  the  same  stone.  Tt  is  evident  that  the  scythe- 
stone  industry  does  not  need  any  tariff  protection. 

Tn  front  of  the  house  an  excellent  patch  of  potatoes 
was  in  full  bloom  unravished  by  the  Colorado  beetle. 
A  flowering  rose  bush  climbed  the  house-wall  by  the 
door,  which  was  flanked  by  several  species  of  the  old- 
fashioned  flowers  that  bloom  so  persistentlv  around  the 
dilapidated  dwellings  of  New  England's  abandoned 
farms.  A  herd  of  cows  were  vielding  their  milk  with- 
in a  turf  enclosure  at  one  end  of  the  house  and  the 
newly  painted  church  across  the  lane  added  to  the  peace- 
fulness  and  thriftiness  of  the  scene. 

The  hot  spring  on  the  farm  furnishes  the  heat  for 


128  ICELAND 

the  cooking  and  the  hot  clay  is  used  for  baking.  Rye 
bread  is  baked  by  digging  a  hole  in  the  clay  and  insert- 
ing a  stone  jar.  This  bread  reminded  us  strongly  of  the 
fine  products  of  the  old  brick  ovens  of  our  grandmoth- 
ers. In  the  evening  pastor  Helgason,  invited  us  into 
his  study  and  in  a  mixture  of  Icelandic,  English  and 
Latin  we  conversed  till  midnight.  This  library  contains 
many  volumes  of  choice  literature,  theological  works, 
and  history.  He  also  showed  us  a  large  herbarium  in 
which  the  plants  were  mounted  accordingly  to  Linnaeus 
and  named.  We  then  learned  more  about  the  favorite 
occupation  of  the  lad  who  tends  the  sheep  and  studies 
botany  at  the  same  time.  Through  the  labor  of  father 
and  son  several  new  species  of  plants  have  been  added 
to  the  flora  of  the  country,  some  of  them  unknown  else- 
where. It  was  my  pleasure  on  my  return  to  send  to 
these  botanists  a  copy  of  the  last  edition  of  Gray's 
Manual  and  I  count  among  my  choicest  letters  from 
Iceland  a  reply  from  Kjartan  Helgason  to  which  was 
attached  a  rare  and  beautiful  gentian,  Gentiana  campes- 
tris,  L.  var.  fslandica. 

The  bedrooms  to  which  we  were  assigned  were  models 
of  neatness  and  comfort.  The  eiderdown  coverlets, 
everpresent,  were  encased  in  dainty  slips  and  the  sheets 
were  artistically  embroidered.  Embroidery  is  a  pas- 
time on  the  farms  and  the  industry  of  girls  as  well  as 
the  women  has  produced  many  beautiful  pieces  that 
would  be  given  places  of  honor  in  the  American  guest 
room.  Spinning,  weaving,  knitting  are  thriving  arts 
in  Icelandic  homes.  The  mill  and  dry  goods  stores 
have  not  driven  these  delightful  occupations  from  the 
homes.  Delightful?  Yes.  When  labor  is  performed 
because  of  the  joy  it  affords  the  laborer,  then  the  pro- 
duct is  not  only  useful  but  it  becomes  a  work  of  art. 
William  Morris  said,  "Art  is  the  expression  of  a  man's 
joy  in  his  work."  These  Icelandic  works  of  art  are  made 


GULLFOSS  129 

for  the  use  of  generations.  They  are  not  items  of  com- 
mon occurrence  in  the  dry  goods  store,  purchased  to- 
day, worn  out  to-morrow  or  thrown  aside  because  your 
neighbor  has  found  a  different  pattern.  Being  individ- 
ual work,  no  two  are  alike.  Each  works  into  the  fabric 
her  own  design  and  with  the  stitches  go  thought,  care, 
accuracy  and  the  result  is  art.  No  better  attraction 
could  be  placed  in  the  show  window  of  our  linen  mer- 
chants than  some  of  these  tastefully  embroidered  pil- 
lowslips, table  covers  or  other  fancy  work. 

The  quality  of  the  hospitality  in  these  Icelandic 
homes  is  such  as  to  make  the  stranger  feel  as  if  he  were 
at  home  and  it  is  all  done  so  quietly  and  without  any 
display.  It  is  simply  natural.  Every  where  there  is 
perfect  safety,  on  the  long  trail,  in  the  village  or  on 
the  lonely  farm.  All  one  has  he  may  leave  exposed  in 
the  sheds  for  days  without  fear  of  its  being  disturbed. 
Honesty  is  bred  in  the  race.  It  is  refreshing  to  have  no 
use  for  locks  and  to  know  that  one  can  not  lose  any- 
thing unless  he  deliberately  casts  it  into  a  rift.  What- 
ever one  leaves  behind  him  will  be  forwarded  and  as 
61afur  once  said, — 

"It  is  a  matter  of  great  pride  if  an  Icelander  finds 
anything  to  be  able  to  return  it  to  the  owner  and  he 
will  make  every  effort  to  do  this." 

The  people  deal  honestly  with  each  other  and  with  the 
stranger.  In  former  days  it  was  customary  to  entertain 
the  traveller  over  night  and  accept  no  payment.  It  is  not 
so  now  and  it  is  better  as  it  is.  Supplies  must  be  carried 
many  days  over  mountains,  across  the  rivers  and  al- 
ways on  the  backs  of  the  ponies  so  that  they  are  ex- 
pensive. The  Icelanders  are  not  rich,  though  many 
of  them  are  quite  comfortably  situated,  as  is  the  farmer 
at  Hrun't.  Still,  it  is  not  right  to  take  of  their  substance 
simply  because  they  feel  it  in  their  hearts  to  give  it. 
In  spite  of  the  payment  for  the  lodging  and  the  food, 


130  ICELAND 

the  traveller  will  always  depart  knowing  that  he  has 
received  kindness,  comfort  and  thoughtfulness  for 
which  he  can  not  pay. 

The  people  are  quiet  in  demeanor,  often  reserved  be- 
fore strangers,  but  they  are  not  morose  and  despondent 
as  some  writers  have  stated.  They  thoroughly  enjoy 
a  good  time,  laugh  and  joke  with  the  wittiest  of  people, 
are  fond  of  singing  and  have  excellent  voices.  The  tone 
of  the  voice  is  soft,  refined  and  pleasant  to  the  ear. 
There  are  no  dialects.  They  speak  as  did  their  ances- 
tors of  twelve  centuries  ago  and  the  accounts  of  these 
people  in  their  ancient  Sagas  in  the  main  are  true  to 
day.  Bad  manners  in  children  I  have  never  seen :  in 
politeness  they  are  models  of  a  high  order.  They  are 
the  children  we  have  read  about,  those  "that  are  seen 
and  not  heard."  It  is  worth  a  cake  of  chocolate  at 
any  time  just  to  see  the  face  of  the  child  light  up  and 
have  him  shyly  present  his  hand  to  the  giver  in  gen- 
uine gratitude.  They  are  affectionate,  obedient  and 
watchful  for  the  welfare  of  the  parents  in  their  childish 
way.  Often  have  I  seen  a  girl  of  ten  or  twelve  wait 
upon  the  table,  while  the  remainder  of  the  family  were 
eating,  quietly  attending  to  all  the  duties  at  the  right 
time  without  a  word  of  direction  and  doing  it  as  well 
as  a  maid  trained  in  the  service. 

Outside  of  Reykjavik,  throughout  the  country  the 
women  do  not  sit  down  to  eat  with  the  men  unless  a 
woman  is  the  guest.  In  all  the  homes  where  we  stayed, 
we  never  had  the  hostess  sit  at  the  table  with  us  but 
once,  but  the  men  often  ate  with  us.  This  is  an  ancient 
custom  of  the  race.  When  the  meal  is  over  the  guest 
rises  and  shakes  hands  with  the  host  or  hostess  and  says 
"thanks  for  the  meal"  and  the  response  is,  "may  it  do 
you  good." 


CHAPTER  X 

HEKLA 

"Irregularly  huge,   august,   and   high, 

Mass  piled  on  mass,  and  rock  on  ponderous  rock, 

In  Alpine  majesty, — its  lofty  brows 

Sometimes  dark  frowning,  and  anon  serene, 

Wrapt  now  in  clouds  invisible  and  now 

Glowing  with   golden   sunshine." 

— Anon. 

EACH  day  in  Iceland  brings  new  scenes.  Each 
morning  we  found  ourselves  asking, — "What 
will  be  the  excitement  to  day?"  The  surprises 
of  the  landscape  are  innumerable.  Though 
we  were  somewhat  accustomed  to  the  wild  and  strange 
scenery,  each  ascent  of  a  ridge,  each  turning  of  a  moun- 
tain angle  presented  surprising  views.  This  is  one  ot 
the  charms  of  travel  on  horseback  through  a  roadless 
country.  The  variety  of  scenes  that  unfold  before  the 
eye  is  as  rich  as  the  changes  in  New  England  weather. 
Day  after  day  in  the  saddle  does  not  produce  monotony, 
the  unexpected  lures  the  traveller  onward  and  when 
supper  is  over  and  he  sits  down  upon  some  commanding 
hillside  of  the  farm  to  record  the  events  of  the  day  he 
is  prompted  to  write, — "This  has  been  the  best  day  of 
all." 

We  turned  southward  from  Hruni,  forded  the  Laxd 
and  climbed  the  sheep-pastured  ridges  that  make  a 
gridiron  of  the  territory  between  the  Laxd  and  the 
Thjorsd,  Bull-River.  The  farms  are  widelv  scattered 
but  they  have  every  appearance  of  rural  prosperity. 
The  grazing  lands  are  extensive,  the  grass  abundant 
and  such  masses  of  flowers  in  bloom  as  we  trampled 
during  these  ten  miles  I  have  never  seen  beyond  the 

131 


i32  ICELAND 

influence  of  cultivation.  These  pastures  are  rich  in 
nutritious  grass  and  thousands  of  sheep  and  many 
ponies  and  cows  are  grazing  on  the  hillsides.  From 
these  slopes  we  look  down  upon  the  busy  haying  scenes 
in  the  tun,  strings  of  ponies  laden  with  hay,  a  bundle 
on  each  side,  guided  by  a  child  from  field  to  haystack, 
maidens  with  rakes  turning  the  fragrant  grass,  men 
and  women  swinging  scythes  to  a  merry  tune  which  all 
are  singing, — these  are  the  elements  of  the  Arcadian 
picture. 

At  noon  as  we  were  working  our  way  over  a  rough 
and  deeply  rutted  plot  of  meadow  by  the  river,  the 
pack  horses,  in  disputing  the  right  of  priority  to  one 
of  the  ditches,  rubbed  their  packing  cases  together  so 
vigorously  that  the  metal  hangers  of  one  of  the  saddles 
broke  and  it  required  an  hour  of  time  and  all  the  string 
and  straps  we  could  muster  to  enable  us  to  proceed. 
That  night  the  farmer,  in  a  little  forge  as  primitive  as 
that  of  Tubal  Cain,  wrought  new  hangers.  Nearly 
every  farmer  has  one  of  these  little  forges  for  repair- 
ing his  instruments.  When  the  shop  is  not  in  use  as  a 
blacksmith's  shop  it  is  often  used  for  smoking  meat  and 
fish. 

Soon  after  the  accident  we  reached  Thjorsdholt,  Bull- 
Ridge.  Here  we  had  our  dinner  upon  the  grass  be- 
tween the  house  and  the  river,  the  weather  being  de- 
lightful. The  Thjorsd  is  broad  and  rapid  and  its  wa- 
ters are  icy  cold.  The  farmer  has  a  small  boat  and  is 
required  by  the  government  to  act  as  ferryman.  At  the 
bank  of  the  river,  packing  cases,  saddles  and  bridles 
were  all  piled  in  a  heap  into  the  shaky  and  leaking  boat. 
We  drove  the  ponies  into  the  water  to  swim  to  the  other 
side.  The  two  pack  horses  fully  understood  what  was  ex- 
pected of  them  and  struck  boldly  into  the  current.  Some 
of  the  saddle  ponies,  after  being  swept  down  stream 
a  short  distance,  being  chilled  in  the  water,  returned 


HEKLA  133 

to  the  shore.  We  drove  them  in  again  and  this  time 
they  persevered.  How  I  pitied  them  in  the  cold  wa- 
ter! The  river  is  nearly  a  half  mile  wide,  the  current 
runs  so  rapidly  that  it  breaks  into  white  water  and  it 
sweeps  the  ponies  down  stream  so  rapidly  that  it  seems 
impossible  for  their  strength  to  endure  till  they  can 
reach  the  opposite  shore.  In  the  midstream  the  water 
swept  over  their  backs  so  that  only  their  noses  and 
ears  were  above  the  water.  When  the  last  ones  were 
half  way  over  we  followed  in  the  boat,  five  of  us  in 
number,  and  were  swept  rather  than  rowed  in  a  dia- 
gonal line  down  stream.  When  the  ponies  reached  the 
opposite  bank  they  rolled  in  the  sand,  shook  themselves 
dry  and  cut  capers  as  if  they  were  yet  colts  wild  and  free 
in  their  mountain  pastures  with  no  experience  of  curb 
and  strap.  Each  day  revealed  some  new  accomplishment 
of  these  hardy  beasts  and  this  day  my  admiration  sur- 
passed all  previous  experiences. 

We  were  nearing  Hekla,  Hooded,  so  named  from 
the  hood  of  cloud  that  nearly  always  caps  the  summit. 
Evidences  of  its  ten  centuries  and  more  of  destruction 
were  all  around  us  in  deserts  of  ash  and  sand,  ruined 
farms,  once  the  finest  in  the  land,  fragments  and  masses 
of  lava  that  had  been  hurled  fifteen  and  twenty  miles 
in  the  many  violent  explosions  from  the  craters  of  the 
volcano  and  the  changed  water  courses  that  had  been 
blocked  by  the  flowing  lava  or  choked  by  the  drifting 
sand.  In  single  file  the  ponies  waded  through  the  fine 
red,  yellow  and  black  sand  and  the  dust  kicked  up  by 
the  troup  literally  obscured  the  leaders.  The  wind 
sifted  the  fine,  gritty  material  through  every  needle-hole 
in  our  clothing;  it  filled  our  hair,  blinded  the  eyes  and 
produced  minature  mud-cakes  in  the  mouth.  An  hour 
of  this  work  satisfied  us  and  we  rejoiced  as  we  edged 
into  a  partly  turfed  section  of  the  plain.  Here  the 
sheep  in  scattered  groups  of  three  to  fifteen  marked 


i34  ICELAND 

the  outskirts  of  the  grazing  land  and  turning  towards 
them  we  soon  entered  a  long,  narrow  strip  of  excellent 
grass  land  between  two  masses  of  the  recent  lava  flow. 
On  approaching  a  farm  we  noted  how  the  farmer  had 
constructed  a  series  of  wind-breaks  of  stone  to  keep  the 
sifting  sand  from  encroaching  too  vigorously  upon  the 
mowing  land.  There  is  very  little  good  turf  in  this 
section  for  fence  building  and  the  barbed  wire  has  been 
substituted.  How  out  of  place  it  is  in  Iceland!  It  is 
ugly  enough  when  hidden  in  the  brush  of  a  back  pas- 
ture in  New  England  but  when  it  stands  out  bare  and 
threatening  above  the  green  turf  of  an  Icelandic 
meadow  and  supplants  the  grass-grown  walls  of  ancient 
days,  which  add  so  much  to  the  charm  of  the  landscape, 
it  is  incongruous.  There  are  several  farms  in  the 
neighborhood  of  Hekla  which  are  mere  fragments  of 
their  former  size  and  to  traverse  the  sand  and  lava 
debris  of  this  section  is  to  realize  a  little  of  the  terrible 
havoc  the  volcano  has  spread  around  its  base. 

At  four  in  the  afternoon  we  reached  Galtalaekur, 
Boar-Brook,  a  poor  little  farm,  just  a  remnant  of  grass 
between  the  black  lava  and  the  ash  heaps  where  once 
a  myriad  acres  of  the  choicest  grazing  lands  in  Iceland 
supported  a  large  population.  The  buildings  are  very 
old  and  are  strictly  of  the  ancient  type,  consisting  of 
a  series  of  six  stone  and  turfed  walled  huts  built  side 
by  side.  Each  hut  has  a  gable  in  front,  no  two  of  the 
same  height,  but  the  roof  is  rounded  down  to  the 
ground  at  the  back.  The  eaves  of  the  adjacent  roofs 
coalesce  and  in  the  gutters  the  flowers  attain  an  ab- 
normal development.  There  is  no  regularity  as  to  the 
size  of  the  different  sections  of  the  house.  Each  por- 
tion appears  to  have  been  added  in  times  of  increasing 
prosperity  as  needed  and  built  in  proportions  accord- 
ing to  the  increment  of  need.  They  have  been  so  long 
constructed   that  age,   even   in   an   Icelandic   house,    is 


HEKLA  135 

showing  itself  and  as  the  building  grew  from  one  end, 
so  now,  from  this  same  end  is  it  crumbling.  The  family 
are  retreating  from  house  to  house  and  unless  better 
times  come  to  this  farm  in  the  way  of  grass  for  cattle 
and  sheep,  a  few  generations  more  will  drive  the  fam- 
ily to  the  last  enclosure  and  then, — abandonment. 

Let  us  enter  the  house.  To  do  so  we  must  stoop  be- 
neath the  lintel  and  step  down  into  the  passage  which 
has  walls  of  turf,  yellow  and  centuries  dry,  and  an 
earth  floor  packed  and  worn  by  the  trampling  of  un- 
numbered generations.  There  is  no  light  in  the  passage 
save  what  comes  through  the  open  door  and  as  we  turn 
to  our  right,  at  right  angles,  blackness  faces  us.  Grop- 
ing a  little  further  a  gleam  of  light  locates  a  door  at 
the  right  which  we  open  to  enter  the  guest  room.  Here 
there  is  also  evidence  of  age.  The  room  is  well  finished 
with  Norway  spruce  and  innocent  of  paint.  Age  has 
given  to  the  wood  a  dark  rich  brown  which  no  paint 
can  imitate  or  equal  in  richness  of  color.  A  triple  win- 
dow lets  in  a  flood  of  light  for  there  are  no  such  un- 
sanitary things  as  blinds  and  curtains.  The  windows 
are  after  the  Danish  plan,  split  through  the  middle, 
hinged  at  the  sides  and  open  outwards  like  American 
blinds.  This  is  an  excellent  innovation  of  recent  years 
and  is  often  the  only  method  of  ventilation.  Wood 
houses  admit  an  abundance  of  air  through  unnumbered 
cracks  and  chinks  in  the  joining,  especially  if  built  for 
speculation,  but  walls  of  turf  two  to  three  feet  thick  are 
proof  against  the  slightest  drafts.  Miss  Oswald  in 
1880  described  the  windows  as  being  set  solidly  into  the 
walls  with  no  way  to  open.  She  felt  the  oppression  of 
the  foul  air  so  much  that  she  often  broke  out  a  light  of 
glass  and  paid  for  "the  accident"  in  the  morning  with 
an  added  apology.  The  influence  of  the  medical  of- 
ficers in  their  fight  to  decrease  tuberculosis  has  pro- 
duced the  desired  change  in  window  construction.     I 


136  ICELAND 

never  found  a  guest  room  where  the  windows  did  not 
open  as  above  described.  The  furniture  of  this  room 
consisted  of  a  bed  three  feet  wide  and  the  customary 
scantiness  of  length,  a  table  and  several  chairs,  numer- 
ous boxes  in  which  clothing  and  valuables  are  stored, 
photographs  in  albums  and  in  wire  racks  on  the  walls, 
and  an  organ  made  in  Brattleboro,  Vermont.  We 
found  these  organs  in  every  home  save  one  during  our 
two  summers  of  travelling  among  the  farms,  no  mat- 
ter how  humble  the  home. 

The  music  most  in  evidence  is  sacred  with  numerous 
selections  from  the  German  and  Italian  masters  and 
much  of  the  minor  lyrical  music  of  the  Icelandic  school. 
The  people  are  fond  of  music  and  most  of  them  are 
fine  singers,  a  few  of  them  excellent.  We  will  never 
forget  the  quartett  and  the  congregational  singing  in  the 
Cathedral  at  Reykjavik  which  we  heard  a  year  later. 
There  are  numerous  composers,  the  best  known  being 
Sveinbjorn  Sveinbjonsson,  well  known  in  the  musical 
circles  of  Europe,  who  now  resides  in  Edinburgh,  Scot- 
land. A  large  amount  of  the  music  has  been  composed 
for  the  love-songs,  idyls  and  pastoral  hymns  written  by 
the  local  poets.  The  themes  of  the  song  writers  arc 
mostly  pastoral,  or,  they  are  an  appreciation  of  the 
charming  scenery  which  inspired  such  writers  as  Jonas 
Hallgrimson  and  Matthias  Jochumsson.  The  sub- 
tlety of  the  Icelandic  language  does  not  permit  of  accu- 
rate translation  of  the  fine  meaning  into  English.  To 
illustrate  one  of  these  appreciations  combined  with  ard- 
ent love  of  country,  I  have  rendered  into  English,  with- 
out any  attempt  at  alliteration,  one  stanza  from  Jonas 
Hallgrimson, — 

You  know  the  land  with  smiling  face 
Which  many  blue-ridged  mountains  grace, 
The  song  of  swan  on  quiet  stream 
Where  meads  with  joyous  flowers  teem, 


HEKLA  137 

The  glacier's  broad  and  shining  wall, 
The  glint  of  sea,  the  roar  of  fall, — 

God's  blessing  rest  on  thee,  I  pray, 

Throughout  the  everlasting  day. 

There  are  songs  of  the  meadow  and  the  sheep-tend- 
ing,  of  fishing  and  of  the  hay-harvest,  of  returning 
spring  and  dying  summer,  of  the  happiness  of  horne- 
life,  of  sorrow  and  joy  and  love  and  the  whole  scale 
of  human  emotions.  In  the  midst  of  their  poverty  and 
toil  they  are  a  cheerful  and  happy  race,  singing  at  their 
occupations  or  writing  songs  in  the  saddle  or  at  the 
sheep-tending.  The  children  are  taught  to  appreciate 
poetry  and  to  write  it  and  the  result  is  that  nearly  every 
one  makes  verses  and  out  of  the  many  attempts  there 
is  much  that  is  excellent.  Much  of  the  poetry  is  spon- 
taneous as  in  the  Saga  days.  The  Sagas  are  replete  with 
impromptu  verses  witty,  ironical,  boastful  and  descrip- 
tive. Thus  Kari,  when  Skapti  accuses  him  of  "sneaking 
out  of  this  atonement"  after  the  famous  trial  of  11 12 
at  the  Althing  for  the  burning  of  Njal,  retorts,  in 
part, — 

"Men  who  skim  the  main  on  sea  stag 
Well  in  this  ye  showed  your  sense, 
Making  game  about  the  Burning, 
Mocking  Helgi,  Grim  and   Njal ; 
Now  the  moor  round  rocky  Swinestye,* 
As  men  run  and  shake  their  shields, 
With  another  grunt  shall  rattle 
When  this  Thing  is  past  and  gone." 

The  great  Icelandic  poets  have  translated  into  the 
Icelandic  many  of  Shakespeare's  plays,  the  Iliad,  Odys- 
sey, Paradise  Lost  and  scores  of  the  minor  pieces  of 
English  and  American  poetry  as  well  as  the  master- 


*Swinestye   is    ironical    for   Sunnefcll,    Swine    Hill,    the   home    of 
Flosi,  the  man  who  did  the  burning. 


138 


ICELAND 


pieces  of  German,  French  and  Scandinavian  literature. 
When  we  learn  that  the  rules  for  Icelandic  poetry  are 
strict,  that  not  only  rhyme  and  rhythm  but  a  compli- 
cated alliteration  must  be  incorporated  in  the  verses, 
we  can  understand  what  a  task  these  translators  have 
had.  There  are  many  variations  of  the  alliteration. 
In  the  following  is  noted  not  only  simple  alliteration 
but  also  that  the  second  hemistich  begins  with  the 
penultimate  syllable  of  the  first.  To  illustrate  note  the 
following : — 


7/rein-tiornum      g  1  e  d  r 

horna 
Horn  nair  litt  at  thorna 
MioSr  hegnir  bo\  bargna 
Bragn'mgr  scipa  Fagnir. 
Folk  homlo  gefr  framla 
Framlyndr  vidum  gamla 
Sas     helldr      fyrir    skot 

Skiolldum. 
Skiolldungr    h  u  n  a  n  g  s 

olldur. 


"The  king  refreshes  his 
warriors  with  the  pure 
mead,  —  mead  which 
soothes  the  sorrows  of 
man.  The  horns  are  sel- 
dom empty.  The  aged 
and  magnanimous  mon- 
arch, who  wields  off  the 
darts  with  his  shield,  di- 
vides the  honey-drink 
among  his  warriors." 

Henderson. 


The  organ  in  this  humble  home  suggested  this  digres- 
sion. Supper  over,  let  us  return  to  the  farm.  Down 
by  the  stream  there  is  a  diminutive  grist  mill  with  hand- 
hewn  stones  fifteen  inches  in  diameter  and  turned  by 
a  most  primitive  water  wheel.  The  mill  never  stops. 
The  rye  or  barley,  imported  from  Europe,  is  placed 
in  the  hopper  and  ground  whole.  There  is  no  differ- 
entiation of  the  botanical  parts  as  in  America,  where 
the  live  stock  get  the  nutritious  portions  and  bread  is 
made  out  of  the  remainder  because  it  is  "white."  When 
the  meal  bucket  at  the  house  is  empty  the  maid  goes 
down  to  the  brook,  removes  the  flour,  refills  the  hop- 
per and  thus  in  rotation  for  years,  or  until  the  mill  must 


HEKLA  139 

be  repaired.    To  appreciate  this  mill  in  all  its  simplicity 
one  must  see  it.     The  stones  are  placed  on  the  upper 
end  of  a  vertical  shaft.     At  the  lower  end  of  the  shaft 
there  are  simply  two  paddle  blades  attached  to  turn  the 
shaft  under  the   pressure  of  the  water.      Simple,   but 
effective,  always  at  work  and  producing  nutritious  flour 
as  long  as  the  grains  are  added  to  the  miniature  hopper. 
After  an  inspection  of  the  mill,  the  same  as  found  on 
many    farms,    I    visited   the   mowers.      They   were    at 
work  with  vigor,  swinging  the  scythe  with  a  powerful 
stroke.     This  a  mower  does  for  about  an  hour  when 
he  suddenly  drops  it  in  the  swath,  goes  to  the  house  for 
a  bowl  of  Skyr,  curds,  a  cup  of  coffee  or  lounges  on  the 
ground  to  smoke  or  take  snuft  with  a  compaion  in  a  sim- 
ilar degree  of  exhaustion.    After  an  hour  of  rest  he  re- 
turns to  his  scythe  and  thus  from  early  morning  till  mid- 
night does  he  labor  during  the  haying  season.  There  are 
always  some  men  and  a  few  women  mowing  but  one 
can  usually  find  two  or  three  scythes  deserted  by  their 
users    in    the    swath.      I    had    an    introduction    to    the 
crooked,  hand-blistering,  ache-producing  instrument  of 
America  in  my  tender  years  which  ripened  into  an  ac- 
quaintance   of    great    familiarity,    which,    true    to    the 
proverb,    bred   contempt.      I    examined    this    Icelandic 
turf-parer  not  without  misgivings  as  to  what  I  could  do 
with  so  strange  an  implement.     The  scythe  is  twenty 
inches  long,  straight  and  two  and  a  half  inches  wide. 
The  blade  is  extremely  thin  and  buckles  and  bends  in 
contact  with  the  turf.    The  snath  is  the  peculiar  feature. 
It  is  made  like  a  rake  handle  and  is  six  feet  long,  per- 
fectly straight  and  attached  to  the  scythe  at  right  an- 
gles.    The  nebs  are  unlike;  that  for  the  right  hand  is 
like  ours  and  similarity  placed,  that  for  the  left  is  a 
straight  strip  about  eighteen  inches  long  and  is  placed 
on  the  snath  at  right  angles  and  just  below  the  shoul- 
der, reaching  down  to  the  palm  of  the  left  hand.     At 


i4o  ICELAND 

the  end  of  this  strip  is  a  cross  piece  to  fit  the  palm  much 
like  the  end  of  a  canoe  paddle.  The  end  of  the  long 
snath  protrudes  over  the  left  shoulder. 

The  men  quit  their  work  and  watched  me  with  a 
quizzical  expression  as  I  picked  up  one  of  these  aban- 
doned implements  and  swung  it  in  the  air  once  or  twice 
before  venturing  to  set  it  into  the  grass,  after  the 
fashion  of  a  golfer  before  the  drive.  When  the  faces 
of  the  mowers  had  broken  into  a  smile,  I  knew  that  I 
must  try  it  and  into  the  grass  it  went  with  the  long 
steady  swing  of  the  old  habit.  After  a  few  strokes  I 
was  cutting  a  wide  clean  swath  and  paring  to  the  turf 
so  that  the  soil  showed  in  the  approved  Icelandic  style. 
A  middle  aged  man,  who  had  been  whetting  his  scythe, 
struck  in  behind  me  close  to  my  heels  while  the  others 
stood  to  watch  the  race.  May  I  modestly  state  that 
my  New  Hampshire  training  had  not  been  in  vain?  I 
had  counted  upon  the  Icelandic  custom  of  slashing  vig- 
orously for  a  distance  of  about  two  rods  and  then  stop- 
ping to  use  the  whetstone.  If  I  could  hold  out  that 
distance  I  knew  that  my  honor  would  be  safe.  I  did. 
In  his  anxiety  to  mow  me  out  he  ran  the  whole  length 
of  the  blade  into  the  tough  turf  and  in  pulling  it  out 
lost  several  strokes,  whereupon  he  decided  to  use  the 
stone  and  I  dropped  the  scythe  in  the  swath  and  step- 
ped aside.  The  onlookers  burst  into  a  roar  of  chaffing 
at  their  companion  and  rushed  to  shake  my  hand  and 
pat  me  on  the  back.  On  smooth  ground  I  afterwards 
found  that  I  could  hold  my  own  with  them  but  on  the 
rough  and  hummocky  land,  which  constitutes  by  far  the 
larger  portion  of  the  mowing,  I  could  not  cut  over  as 
much  ground  as  they.  Seeing  the  thousands  of  adjacent 
hummocks  the  size  of  a  wash  tub,  covering  acres  of  the 
best  mowing  land  and  caused  by  the  heaving  of  the  turf 
under  the  influence  of  the  frost,  I  understood  the  reason 
for  the  shape  of  the  Icelandic  scythe  snath.     In  this 


HEKLA  141 

kind  of  mowing  the  Icelander  does  not  try  to  cut  a 
straight  swath.  He  mounts  a  hummock,  slashes  the 
grass  and  a  part  of  the  turf  from  the  hummocks  around 
him,  mounts  the  decapitated  hummocks  and  deftly 
shaves  the  sides  and  pares  the  hollows.  There  are  no 
stones  in  the  mowing  lands;  scarcity  of  hay,  the  neces- 
sity for  getting  all  the  short  grass  during  the  thou- 
sand years  of  mowing  has  removed  every  trace  of 
lava  fragments.  Whenever  we  arrived  at  a  farm  I 
worked  an  hour  or  more  with  the  haymakers  in  order 
to  get  acquainted  with  the  people  and  study  their 
methods  of  work.  After  a  half  day  in  one  field  the 
farmer  told  Johannes  that  I  ought  to  stay  in  their 
country,  as  I  would  make  a  good  Icelander.  This  was 
after  I  had  had  considerable  experience  with  the  scythe, 
the  fine-toothed  rake  and  the  reipe,  rope,  for  binding 
hay  for  transportation. 

Evidently  no  one  had  occupied  the  guest  room  at 
GaltaJaekur  for  some  time.  When  Icelanders  arrive 
at  a  farm  to  stay  over  night  they,  according  to  ancient 
custom,  go  to  the  badstofa,  sitting  and  sleeping  room, 
where  all  the  people  sleep.  In  early  days  baSstofa  sig- 
nified "bathroom,"  but  it  has  lost  that  meaning.  Mrs. 
Russell  had  retired  early  in  anticipation  of  a  hard  day 
on  Hekla.  When  I  came  in  from  the  hayfield  she  was 
sitting  up  in  bed  and  laughing.  On  being  asked  the 
cause  of  the  merriment,  she  replied, — 

"As  soon  as  I  had  retired,  three  women  came  into 
the  room  on  tip  toe,  whispering  and  pointing  to  me.  I 
feigned  to  be  asleep  and  after  some  hesitation  two  of 
them  approached  the  bed  and  gazed  at  me  a  long  time. 
Then  one  of  them  quietly  drew  from  between  the  cover- 
lets several  skirts  and  other  articles  of  wearing  apparel. 
They  went  out  and  I  heard  them  giggling  in  the  pass- 
age way.  In  a  short  time  they  came  in  again  and  this 
time  pulled  out  from  under  the  bed  enough  dishes  to 


i42  ICELAND 

set  a  table,  and  several  packages.  Then  they,  think- 
ing I  was  sound  asleep,  lifted  up  the  eider-down  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed  and  drew  out  a  big  platter  laden  with 
what  I  suppose  was  smoked  fish." 

I  had  no  sooner  reached  the  room  and  was  wonder- 
ing where  I  was  to  sleep,  than  these  ladies  came  again 
bringing  more  eider-down  covers  and  a  box.  The  box 
was  placed  at  the  end  of  a  chest,  a  bed  was  made  upon 
the  combination  and  I  turned  in  to  await  an  early  call. 
But  those  two  boxes  were  possessed  to  separate  and  I 
found  myself  on  the  floor  between  them  in  a  smother 
of  covers.  I  then  made  up  my  bed  on  the  floor  and  in 
the  morning  rearranged  the  boxes  to  give  them  the 
appearance  of  having  been  used  as  intended.  This  I 
did  on  the  following  night.  The  people  did  the  best 
they  could  to  be  hospitable,  served  us  excellent  food 
and  attended  to  every  thing  possible  for  our  comfort, 
even  to  removing  our  clothes  and  boots  during  the  night 
and  cleaning  them.  True  hospitality  is  in  the  spirit  of 
the  service  and  not  in  the  quantity  or  quality  and  this 
fact  must  be  recognized  in  order  to  do  justice  to  these 
friendly  people. 

Hekla  was  our  goal.  Across  the  noisy  river,  out  of 
the  folds  of  its  mantle  of  wrinkled  lava  ridges,  rose 
the  icy  shoulders  and  hooded  head  which  we  hoped  to 
win  this  day.  We  engaged  an  additional  guide  at  the 
farm  to  go  with  Johannes  and  taking  our  best  ponies, 
Michael  Sunlocks  and  Greba,  we  left  the  farm  at  six 
in  the  morning.  This  is  early  in  Iceland.  From  ten 
to  one  is  the  usual  hour  for  beginning  the  ride  of  the 
day.  A  short  trot  across  the  field  brought  us  to  the 
Vestr-Rdngd,  West-Wrong-Rivcr.  There  is  an  East- 
ern as  well  as  a  Western  "Wrong-River,"  so  named 
because  the  eruptions  of  Hekla  have  so  often  changed 
its  course.  We  passed  close  to  the  tun  of  Nocfrholt, 
Clever-Stony-Ridge.     The  stony  ridge  is  there  but  why 


HEKLA  143 

"clever"  I  can  not  surmise,  unless  the  people  have  been 
clever  in  dodging  the  big  masses  of  rock  that  roll  down 
from  the  mountain.  The  buildings  are  close  in  under 
the  steep  lava  wall  and  there  are  hundreds  of  great 
stones  around  the  buildings,  any  one  of  which  would 
have  destroyed  them,  that  have  tumbled  down  from 
the  mountain  wall.  Many  homes  have  been  demolished 
in  this  country  and  people  killed  by  the  rolling  stones. 
This  ridge  is  palagonitic  conglomerate,  the  refuse  of 
preglacial  eruptions.  The  term  preglacial  in  Iceland 
means  the  same  as  in  other  glaciated  countries,  but  the 
geological  time  is  much  more  recent  than  in  North 
America.  More  of  this  when  we  reach  the  glaciers. 
We  climbed  the  ridge  beside  a  beautiful  stream  of  water 
sluicing  down  a  grooved  ledge  and  saw  two  pairs  of 
Harlequin  ducks,  His  trio  nicus  minutus,  swimming  in 
the  swift  water.  It  is  remarkable  how  these  swimmers 
can  hold  their  position  in  such  strong  currents.  The 
bluish-gray  plumage  of  the  males  slashed  with  bars  of 
white  and  the  dark  brown  dress  of  the  females  made  a 
pretty  picture  as  the  lively  birds  zigzagged  in  the  glis- 
tening stream.  They  were  quite  fearless  and  did  not 
dive  until  we  were  within  ten  feet  of  them. 

Coming  to  a  great  quadrangular  enclosure  in  the 
lava  walls  we  stopped  to  rest  and  to  feed  the  ponies,  as 
this  is  the  last  spot  where  grass  can  be  obtained.  The 
great  ridge  to  the  right  which  is  deep  red  and  compact 
like  jasper  is  the  lava  of  the  recent  eruption.  It  term- 
inates in  a  fissure  in  the  mountain  side  far  below  the 
summit.  The  wall  to  the  left  turned  in  front  of  us 
in  a  long  sweep  to  join  the  base  of  the  above  mentioned 
rift.  From  our  position  no  egress  appeared  from  this 
formidable  cut  de  sac  and  we  expected  that  the  guides 
would  leave  the  ponies  here  with  the  ascent  just  begun 
and  that  we  would  have  this  tangled  mass  of  lava  ropes 
to  scale  as  best  we  could.     A  mile  further  on  a  twist 


i44  ICELAND 

in  the  flow,  where  the  viscid  lava  rose  in  a  billow  and 
broke  back  upon  itself,  we  found  a  precarious  egress 
which  the  ponies  negotiated  with  the  agility  and  sure- 
footedness  of  mountain  sheep.  We  dodged  about  be- 
tween the  basalt  fragments  and  over  the  ash  ridges 
rising  higher  and  higher  with  every  turn.  The  travel- 
ling is  somewhat  dangerous  in  places,  as  I  had  occasion 
to  testify,  the  lava  is  full  of  cracks  and  holes  and  the 
lichens  have  woven  a  treacherous  carpet  over  this  floor. 
High  above  loom  the  red  walls  and  the  obsidian  points 
bristling  like  a  cheval-de-frise.  We  had  not  yet  reached 
the  snow  line  but  the  fog  hung  low  upon  the  shoulders 
of  the  mountain  and  we  despaired  of  even  a  momentary 
lifting  of  the  mantle  should  we  gain  the  summit.  We 
next  came  to  an  ash  ridge  so  steep  that  we  dismounted 
and  sometimes  walking  and  sometimes  riding  we  gained 
the  top  of  this  ridge,  an  elevation  of  2,000  feet  above 
the  sea.  Descending  into  a  wild  glen  of  chaotic  frag- 
ments, like  huge  masses  of  broken  glass,  we  found  a 
patch  of  level  sand  and  here  we  left  the  ponies.  We 
tied  them  in  pairs,  the  head  of  one  to  the  tail  of  the 
other  and  here  we  left  the  poor  beasts  without  food 
or  water  till  six  at  night  to  shiver  in  the  blast. 

Hekla  is  situated  thirty  miles  from  the  sea  on  the 
south  shore  of  the  island.  In  clear  weather  it  is  easily 
seen  from  the  Westman  Islands  and  is  a  fine  spectacle 
as  it  lifts  its  silvery  mass  above  the  great  plain.  It  has 
two  peaks,  craters.  From  these  peaks  extend  northeast 
and  southwest  a  ridge  of  lava  fifteen  miles  each.  This  is 
the  material  that  has  belched  from  these  craters  and 
more  recently  from  the  rifts  deep  down  in  the  side  of  the 
mountain.  We  made  the  ascent  from  the  west.  From 
the  eminence  which  we  had  gained  we  looked  over  the 
country  traversed  during  the  past  three  days.  The  base 
and  the  middle  slopes  are  composed  of  contorted  and 
tangled  skeins  of  lava  which  flowed  at  different  periods. 


HEKLA  145 

the  more  recent  ones  adapting  themselves  to  the  older 
ridges,  sometimes  filling  the  gullies  and  overflowing, 
sometimes  melting  down  thin  barriers  or  baking  the 
ridges  of  ash  and  rubble  into  conglomerate,  which  some- 
one has  aptly  termed  a  "geological  Irish  stew."  The  roll- 
ing, spreading  and  twisting  of  these  semi-fluid  hot 
streams,  the  terrible  rough  and  punctured  surface  of  the 
lava,  the  sharp  and  glass-like  angles,  the  pinnacles  and 
crevasses  are  better  imagined  than  described.  No  ade- 
quate idea  can  be  obtained  till  one  has  made  the  ascent, 
till  one  has  had  many  a  fall,  cut  his  hands  upon  the 
glass,  scoured  his  boots  on  the  needlepoints,  lost  his 
breath  and  almost  lost  his  temper, — till  then  he  will  re- 
main in  ignorance  of  the  true  condition  of  Hekla's 
horrent  surface.  Now  and  again  a  patch  of  loose  sand 
or  a  pocket  of  snow  gives  respite  from  the  sharp  and 
angular  blocks  that  menace  a  cut  with  every  step. 

The  ridge  where  we  left  the  ponies  commands  a 
grand  view  well  worth  the  ascent  to  this  point,  even 
though  the  traveller  goes  no  further.  Most  people  who 
"make  the  ascent  of  Hekla"  go  no  further  than  the 
summit  of  this  ridge,  though  it  is  only  two-fifths  of  the 
elevation  of  the  mountain.  We  ate  a  portion  of  our 
lunch,  cached  the  remainder  in  a  crevice  under  a  rock, 
and  picked  our  way  as  best  we  could  over  a 
tumbled  pile  of  bristling  lava  for  half  an  hour  when 
we  arrived  at  the  snow  which  was  in  exceptionallv  good 
condition  for  walking.  Tt  lay  in  a  narrow  gulch  be- 
tween two  steep  ridges  of  rock  which  extend  up  to 
the  steepest  portion  of  the  mountains.  While  we  are 
making  this  easy  portion  of  the  climb  let  us  recount  a 
bit  of  Hekla' s  history. 

Hekla  is  the  greatest  volcano  in  Iceland  and  in  some 
respects  the  greatest  in  the  world.  What  makes  a 
volcano  great?  Is  it  the  area  of  the  base  and  its 
altitude?     Is  it  the  number  of  recorded  eruptions?     Is 


i46  ICELAND 

it  the  number  of  people  it  has  destroyed  together  with 
their  flocks  and  herds?  Is  it  the  space  of  territory  de- 
vastated and  the  duration  of  any  one  or  any  series  of  its 
eruptions?  This  volcano  was  doubtless  active  prior  to 
the  settlement  of  the  country  as  shown  by  the  formation 
of  its  slopes,  but  since  1004  there  have  been  twenty-five 
recorded  eruptions,  each  of  a  serious  nature  to  the  coun- 
try and  destructive  of  life  and  property.  Some  of  these 
eruptions  have  lasted  only  a  few  days  and  several  for 
months  and  the  one  beginning  in  1766  lasted  two  years. 
The  great  eruption  was  in  1845  and  lasted  sevenmonths. 
The  shortest  period  between  eruptions  was  from  1294 
to  1 300,  only  six  years,  and  previous  to  this  eruption  the 
volcano  had  been  quiet  for  seventy-two  years.  The 
longest  period  was  between  the  last  two  eruptions,  1768 
to  1845,  seventy-seven  years  and  this  followed  the  long 
eruption  of  two  years.  The  average  period  of  inactiv- 
ity from  1004  to  1845  1S  thirty-two  years.  These 
figures  do  not  take  into  account  the  frequent  flowing  of 
lava  from  the  rifts  during  the  periods  of  so-called  in- 
activity. The  following  are  the  most  memorable  erup- 
tions,— 

*I294  Eighth  recorded  eruption.  There  were  vio- 
lent and  destructive  earthquakes  throughout  the  coun- 
try. Great  rifts  in  the  old  lava  plains  were  opened. 
The  rivers  were  covered  with  pumice  and  many  of  them 
changed  their  courses.  New  hot  springs  came  into 
existence  and  others  disappeared.  There  was  great 
destruction  of  life  and  property. 

1300  Ninth  recorded  eruption  and  following  the 
short  period  of  six  years  of  rest.  This  was  one  of  the 
most  violent  on  record.  Ashes  covered  hundreds  of 
miles  of  the  north  country.     There  were  many  severe 


*With  the  exception  of  the  Inst  records,   1854.  and    tot^  this  data 
is  compiled  from  the  letters  of  Von  Troll.  TTn<ah,  Sweden,  1777. 


HEKLA  147 

earthquakes  and  the  destruction  of  the  grass  and  live- 
stock produced  a  famine  with  resulting  heavy  loss  of 
life. 

1436  Thirteenth  recorded  eruption.  Many  home- 
steads and  much  arable  land  laid  waste  under  a  mantle 
of  scorching  ashes. 

15 10  Fifteenth  recorded  eruption.  Enormous  vol- 
umes of  ash  and  pumice  were  poured  out  and  myriads 
of  lava  bombs  were  scattered  for  miles,  which  in  fall- 
ing demolished  houses  and  killed  livestock  and  people. 

1583  Sixteenth  recorded  eruption.  This  was  ex- 
cessive in  its  violence.  Thundering  explosions  were 
audible  throughout  the  island  and  continued  for  twelve 
days  with  great  violence.  Eighteen  columns  of  flaming 
gases  issued  from  as  many  different  vents  in  the  moun- 
tain. Earthquakes  destroyed  many  farms  and  hun- 
dreds of  the  turf  and  stone  dwellings  were  demolished. 
There  was  a  great  loss  of  life. 

1845  Twenty-fourth  recorded  eruption.  It  began 
on  September  second  and  continued  without  cessation 
for  seven  months.  The  ashes  rose  miles  in  the  air  and 
were  carried  by  the  wind  to  the  Shetland  Islands  and 
to  Norway.  During  this  eruption,  it  is  estimated  that 
500  feet  in  altitude  of  the  top  of  the  mountain  was 
blown  into  fragments  and  hurled  in  places  to  a  distance 
of  fifteen  miles  or  more.  Hot  sand,  ashes  and  scoriae 
were  ejected  in  a  constant  fountain  from  the  crater  and 
the  mountain  itself  opened  lower  down,  and  from  this 
rift  came  the  floods  of  lava  that  flowed  for  seven 
months  destroying  everything  in  its  path.  It  has  been 
estimated  by  the  Danish  survey  that  the  mass  of  melted 
rock  poured  out,  (not  counting  sand,  ash  and  scoriae), 
from  this  rent  is  14,500,000  cubic  feet. 

19 1 3  Twenty-fifth  recorded  eruption.  At  three  in 
the  morning  of  the  twenty-fifth  of  April,  Fridav,  there 
was  a  violent  earthquake  shock  in  the  region  of  Hekla 


i48  ICELAND 

and  several  houses  fell,  notably  the  ancient  one  at  Galta- 
laekur,  to  which  special  reference  has  been  made  in  this 
chapter.  Heavy  smoke  poured  from  two  sources  and 
fine  ashes  fell  between  the  Thjorsd  and  the  Hvitd.  On 
the  thirtieth  of  April  the  lava  spouted  over  iooo  feet 
into  the  air  and  on  the  first  of  May  a  rift  opened  that 
was  over  600  feet  in  length.  Moderate  action  con- 
tinued until  the  eighth  of  May.  During  the  eighth  and 
the  ninth  of  May  the  action  was  violent  and  the  out- 
flowing lava  covered  an  area  two  miles  in  length  by  one 
in  width. 

Krakatindr  is  a  small  peak  on  the  eastern  slope  of 
the  Hekla  field  and  Lamb  a  fell,  Lamb  Mountain,  is 
another  in  the  same  locality.  Here  the  eruption  was 
central  and  in  the  last  mentioned  ridge  the  lava  broke 
out  in  ten  distinct  places.  It  must  be  remembered  that 
the  1 9 13  eruption  of  Hekla  did  not  come  from  either 
of  the  summit  craters,  but  from  the  foot  hills  and  but- 
tresses of  this  mountain.  It  must  be  regarded  as  an 
eruption  of  Hekla  when  dealt  with  scientifically.  The 
mass  of  lava,  slag  and  ashes  on  the  summit  of  Hekla 
will  preclude  any  future  activity  within  the  ancient 
craters;  but,  future  action,  like  this  of  19 13,  will  take 
place  in  rifts  in  the  sides  and  at  the  foot  of  this  volcano, 
since  it  is  in  this  lower  crust  that  the  mountain  is  weak- 
est. 

It  was  over  the  ruins  of  the  1845  eruption  that  we 
had  travelled  for  a  day  and  it  was  those  curled  and 
solidified  streams  of  bristling  and  horrent  lava  over 
which  we  have  been  making  our  snail-like  pace  to  the 
summit.  When  we  speak  of  a  great  volcano  we  un- 
consciously turn  to  Vesuvius  but  this  is  because  of  its 
dramatic  position  in  history  and  because  it  has  enjoyed 
more  advertising  than  all  other  volcanoes  in  the  world. 
Because  of  the  vineyards  and  the  dense  population  upon 
its  slopes  and  the  number  of  lives  it  has  destroyed  we 


HEKLA  149 

thoughtlessly  crown  it  the  king  of  volcanoes.  Had 
the  plains  of  Hekla  enjoyed  the  mild  climate  of  Naples 
they  would  have  supported  many  times  the  population 
within  the  radius  of  the  influence  of  Vesuvius  and  the 
destruction  of  life  due  to  Hekla' s  eruption  would  have 
totaled  an  appalling  figure.  Vesuvius  was  silent  for 
long  centuries  prior  to  79  A.  D.  then  came  its  ash 
and  mud  eruption,  then  for  about  fifteen  centuries  it 
was  silent.  Since  that  time  its  activity  has  been  largely 
spectacular.  Lava  rifts  where  molten  rock  pours  out 
continuously  are  beyond  doubt  the  most  terrible  forms 
of  volcanic  activity, — such  has  been  the  type  of  Hekla. 
To  answer  the  questions  which  introduced  this  topic, — 
the  things  that  make  a  volcano  great  are  not  the  cir- 
cumstances of  men.  Its  greatness  lies  in  the  number, 
violence,  duration  and  character  of  the  eruptions,  in  the 
quantity  of  molten  material  forced  out,  in  the  mass  of 
detrius  ejected  from  the  crater  and  the  power  with 
which  that  material  is  vomited  upon  the  earth.  If 
this  definition  of  greatness  is  correct,  then  Hekla  is 
the  greatest  volcano  of  recorded  time.  It  has  been 
little  studied,  never  systematically,  on  account  of  its 
remoteness. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  snow  covered  lava  gulch  we 
turned  to  the  right  and  the  real  snow  climbing  com- 
menced. At  this  place  the  mountain  has  a  slope  of 
forty-five  degrees.  The  snow  was  hard,  too  hard  in 
fact  for  sure  footing,  almost  ice,  and  we  were  forced 
to  dig  steps  with  our  feet  to  support  us  while  making 
the  next  step.  At  the  time  we  were  on  the  mountain 
there  was  an  unusual  amount  of  snow,  which  filled  the 
cracks  and  smoothed  the  angular  projections  of  this 
upper  portion.  On  the  steepest  slopes  the  snow  basely 
rewarded  our  confidence  and  gave  us  many  a  backward 
and  ignominous  slide. 

While  we  were  fastening  the  ponies,  the  feasibility 


i5o  ICELAND 

of  Mrs.  Russell's  going  further  was  questioned  by 
Johannes. 

"Madam  will  stay  with  me  till  the  guide  and  your 
man  return?" 

"I  am  going  to  try  the  climb  with  Mr.  Russell,"  she 
replied. 

"The  lady  go  to  the  top  of  Hekla!  If  the  lady  go 
then  Johannes  will  go,  but  I  fear  the  lady  will  not  go 
far." 

When  we  were  struggling  up  the  steep  snow  slope, 
I  made  steps  in  advance  and  Mrs.  Russell,  importuned 
by  Johannes  and  weary  with  the  toil  was  ready  to  halt, 
if  she  had  received  the  least  encouragement  from  me. 

"The  lady  can  go  no  further,"  said  Johannes  to  me 
as  he  dug  a  hole  in  the  snow  for  a  seat,  "and  you  must 
not  allow  it." 

I  replied,  ushe  has  travelled  two  days  over  a  rough 
country,  fording  the  rivers  and  now  she  has  almost  won 
the  cinder  cone.  She  will  always  be  sorry  in  America 
to  have  to  say  that  she  got  nearly  to  the  top  and  gave 
up  the  struggle."  This  I  said,  talking  to  Johannes 
but  for  the  benefit  of  uthe  lady." 

"Well,  Johannes  can  go  no  further;  Johannes  is  an 
old  man  and  he  has  pain  in  here,"  placing  his  hand 
over  his  stomach,  "the  skyr  I  ate  this  morning  was 
little  and  it  not  good  to  do  Hekla-climb  on."  So  say- 
ing, he  dug  his  hole  deeper  and  reclined  in  the  snow 
while  we  pushed  our  way  over  the  remaining  snow  sur- 
face to  the  cinder  cone. 

Yes,  Johannes  was  an  old  man  and  a  faithful  one. 
His  action  this  day  was  a  fine  bit  of  Icelandic  courtesy 
and  faithful  service.  Honestly  he  did  not  think  it 
wise  for  a  woman  to  attempt  the  climb  and  being  con- 
fident that  Mrs.  Russell  would  not  endure,  he  knew 
that  my  climb  of  the  mountain  would  be  defeated  if 
I  had  had  to  turn  back  with  her,  so  he  trudged  along 


HEKLA  151 

manfully  to  be  her  companion  when  she  ceased  climb- 
ing and  await  my  return.  When  we  were  near  enough 
to  the  summit  so  that  it  was  evident  that  k'the  lady" 
would  win,  he  halted  and  veiled  his  whole  earnest  ef- 
forts under  the  excuse  of  his  weakness.  He  was  a 
faithful  man,  constantly  anticipating  our  wants  and  al- 
ways ready  to  exert  himself  for  our  comfort  and 
pleasure. 

When  we  were  on  the  glassy  lava  we  wished  we 
were  on  the  snow  slope,  when  we  were  scaling  and  slip- 
ping on  the  snow  we  wished  we  were  on  the  lava.  But 
what  of  the  cinder  cone !  That  was  short  but  it  was 
the  worst  of  all.  We  made  the  ascent  on  a  narrow 
ridge  like  that  of  a  roof.  The  loose  material  rolled 
away  and  often  took  us  backward  with  it.  A  false  step 
to  either  side  of  the  ridge  carried  us  down  several 
yards  and  it  became  a  hand  and  foot  scramble  to  regain 
the  lost  position  on  the  ridge.  Near  the  very  top  if  we 
had  made  a  false  step  towards  the  right  we  would  have 
been  precipitated  several  rods  into  the  creeping  rubble 
of  multi-colored  cinders,  if  the  false  step  had  been  to 
the  left  we  would  have  fallen  an  equal  distance  on  to 
the  snowbank  in  the  rim  of  the  crater. 

During  the  last  hour  of  the  climb  we  were  enveloped 
in  clouds  and  as  we  gained  the  summit  snow  was  falling. 
A  sudden  change  in  the  direction  of  the  wind  swept 
the  clouds  from  the  top  of  the  mountain  and  we  had 
ten  minutes  of  clear  sky  which  afforded  time  for  two 
good  photographs  and  a  quick  view  of  the  surrounding 
country.  Mrs.  Russell  unfurled  the  flag  of  the  Arctic 
Club  of  America,  the  stars  and  stripes  in  the  upper  left 
hand  corner  of  an  ice-green  field.  This  flag  had  been 
presented  to  me  for  this  purpose  by  the  late  Rear  Ad- 
miral W.  S.  Schley,  then  president  of  the  Arctic  Club. 
We  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  Mrs.  Russell  was 
the  first  woman  to  gain  this  point  and  I  know  that  it 


i52  ICELAND 

was  the  first  time  that  the  stars  and  stripes  ever  floated 
from  the  summit  of  a  volcano  in  Iceland. 

The  reading  of  the  thermometer  at  the  summit  was 
zero,  Centigrade ;  the  reading  of  the  aneroid  barometer, 
carefully  compared  with  the  standard  at  the  station  in 
Reykjavik  before  starting  and  corrected  by  the  same 
instrument  for  the  same  hour  when  we  returned,  gave 
the  elevation  of  Hekla  as  5,050  feet.  This  is  not  a 
high  mountain  but  it  has  features  peculiar  to  itself  that 
render  its  ascent  one  of  toil.  Any  person  with  endur- 
ance and  thoughtful  care  can  make  the  ascent  and  no 
one  who  visits  Iceland,  if  at  all  interested  in  the  topog- 
raphy of  the  country  or  in  volcanic  formations,  can  af- 
ford to  miss  it. 

I  climbed  down  to  the  brink  of  the  crater  upon  the 
snow  shelf  to  view  the  interior  and  to  photograph  the 
opposite  wall.  No  ascent  had  been  made  for  four  years 
and  at  that  time  the  local  guide  stated  that  the  crater 
was  full  of  snow  and  ice.  This  is  the  ash  crater  of 
1845.  The  opening  is  about  450  by  360  feet.  When 
I  looked  into  its  depths  on  July  20,  1909,  there  was 
no  snow  in  the  bottom  and  vapor  was  ascending.  This 
vapor  was  doubtless  snow  evaporation.  Yet,  there  has 
been  some  heat  radiation  from  within  to  clear  out 
this  great  cavity  of  ice  and  snow  in  four  years.  Fifteen 
minutes  walk  along  the  ridge  brings  the  traveller  to  the 
red  crater,  which  is  about  the  same  size  as  the  other 
or  northern  crater  but  unlike  it  the  material  is  red  with 
considerable  sublimated  sulfur. 

Hekla  is  by  no  means  dead.  Numerous  earthquakes 
have  occurred  in  its  vicinity  within  the  past  three  years 
and  a  large  area  of  the  ice  mantle  is  reported  as  having 
slipped  off  in  19 10.  It  is  sixty-nine  years  since  the 
great  eruption  of  1845,  which  is  more  than  twice  the 
average  period  of  inactivity  but  it  is  nine  years  less  than 
its  longest  period  of  rest.     An  eruption  may  be  ex- 


HEKLA  153 

pected  at  any  time.  The  old  volcano,  in  spite  of  the 
slander  which  Burton  heaps  upon  it,  is  worthy  of  scien- 
tific study  and  before  its  next  eruption  a  series  of  ob- 
servations should  be  taken  similar  to  those  made  by 
Frank  Perret  on  Vesuvius  and  other  Mediterranean 
volcanoes. 

The  view  from  Hekla  is  superb.  The  eye  is  first 
arrested  by  the  ridges  of  lava,  black,  red,  gray,  hor- 
rent and  ill-boding  which  extend  down  the  mountain 
slopes  and  bury  themselves  in  the  fertile  soil  of  the 
distant  plains.  Each  of  the  two  main  ridges  bisects  a 
well  watered  section,  once  fertile  and  now  choked  with 
sand.  To  the  northwest,  Lang  Joknll  raises  its  two 
score  miles  of  ice-parapet,  four  hundred  miles  of  un- 
explored Iceland;  to  the  northeast  is  spread  out  the  vast 
expanse  of  mighty  Vatna  Joknll,  Mountain-Producing- 
Waters,  an  area  of  ice-covered  tableland  one  hundred 
miles  by  sixty;  between  these  two  glaciers  and  directly 
north  of  us  stands  Hofs  Joknll,  Hof  signifying  heathen- 
temple,  it  is  nearly  circular  and  appears  like  the  frosted 
dome  of  a  mammoth  cake.  Between  the  last  two 
Joknlls,  stretching  away  into  the  northeast,  is  the 
Sprengisandnr,  Bursting-Sands,  a  mighty  desert  entirely 
void  of  vegetation,  a  dreary,  desolate  tract,  wind-driven 
and  life-destroying.  Nearer,  in  the  emerald  plain  flow 
the  glacier-born  rivers  the  Thjorsd  and  the  Hvitd  and 
a  cloud  of  saffron  sand  floats  in  the  air  above  the  desert 
which  we  crossed  yesterday.  We  cannot  see  the  travel- 
lers but  surely  there  is  a  train  of  horses  there  and  the 
wind  is  lifting  the  fine  sand  into  the  sun.  Turn  now 
to  the  southward,  look  down  along  the  tumbled  chim- 
neys and  the  red  hornitos  of  Hekla  and  the  first  object  to 
arrest  the  eye  is  the  beautiful  Tindfjallajokull,  Peaked- 
Ice-Mountain,  with  its  two  ice-horns  resembling  the 
Matter-horn,  protruding  from  an  oval  mound  of  lava 
and  casting  their  blue  shadows  on  the  trackless  snow. 


154  ICELAND 

Behind  this  mountain  is  the  Saga  country  of  the  South, 
the  home  of  the  noble  Njal  and  the  peerless  Gunnar. 
There  was  the  scene  of  Iceland's  great  Epic,  Burnt 
Njal.  Those  ribbons  of  limpid  silver  that  branch  from 
the  base  of  Godalands  Jokull,  Land-of-the-Gods,  like 
reins  from  the  hand  of  a  chariot  driver,  those  are  the 
many  branches  of  the  Markarfljot,  Boundary-Marking- 
River,  pouring  down  its  floods  of  glacial  waters  and 
volcanic  sands  to  choke  the  passage  in  an  effort  to  join 
Heimaey  to  the  mainland.  Across  the  moors,  the  sheep 
ranges  and  the  marshes  beyond,  the  North  Atlantic, 
encircling  the  black  masses  of  the  Westman  Islands, 
wreathes  those  weathered  pillars  with  garlands  of  snow- 
white  foam. 

The  descending  clouds  and  the  falling  snow  suddenly 
shut  off  the  view,  but  the  camera  of  the  eye  has  caught 
it  all  in  a  circling  panorama  and  the  prints  are  stored 
in  memory's  folder  to  be  opened  at  leisure.  The  in- 
finite waste  of  the  lava  billows,  grandeur  rising  from 
desolation,  the  flash  of  the  restless  rivers,  the  quiet  of 
the  happy  plain, — these  are  but  the  halftones  in  Ice- 
land's matchless  print. 

The  descent  of  the  mountain  was  quickly  made  and 
without  incident.  The  slide  down  the  semi-glacial  cone 
was  a  matter  of  pure  enjoyment.  We  passed  out  of  the 
snowstorm  and  the  cloud  at  the  base  of  the  cinder  pile 
into  perfect  sunshine  with  all  the  loveliness  of  the  west- 
ern section  to  gladden  the  eye.  Johannes  rested  by  his 
nap  in  the  snow  cradle  joined  us  in  the  sport  of  rolling 
lava  blocks  down  the  declivity.  To  roll  stones  down  a 
mountain  slope,  pitting  one  against  another  with  equal 
chances  for  winning  the  race,  is  a  delightful  pastime, 
but  when  the  racecourse  is  a  bed  of  ice  and  the  goal 
a  distant  lava  ridge  against  which  the  contestants  dash 
themselves  into  powder  one  is  apt  to  linger  till  the  last 
desirable  stone  has  been  turned.     Many  a  slip  and  turn- 


HEKLA  155 

blc  added  zest  to  the  descent,  for  each  slide  was  so 
much  gained  and  no  ground  could  be  lost  and  we 
laughed  at  the  brevity  of  the  steps  in  the  upward  trail. 
We  were  happy,  having  done  one  of  the  things  which 
we  had  gone  to  Iceland  to  attempt. 

We  found  the  ponies  shivering  in  the  circle  of  sand 
where  we  had  left  them.  In  their  desire  to  turn  their 
heavy  tails  towards  the  wind  for  a  protection,  each 
pony  of  the  pair  had  walked  around  his  tethered  neigh- 
bor till  a  well  trodden  path  had  been  produced,  a  nar- 
row circle  out  of  which  they  had  not  stepped.  We 
ate  a  hasty  lunch  and  mounted.  Once  down  the  steep 
rubble  hill,  away  they  went  at  a  gallop,  literally  at  a 
break-neck  speed,  for  they  were  cold  and  hungry  and 
longed  for  the  grass  by  the  brook  of  the  harlequin 
ducks.  I  came  near  to  having  my  neck  broken.  When 
we  entered  the  amphitheater  above  described,  I  dis- 
mounted to  take  a  photograph.  The  ponies  always 
travel  in  single  file,  nose  to  tail,  no  matter  how  fast 
the  pace.  If  one  of  them  is  held  back  he  will  whinner 
and  do  his  utmost  to  overtake  the  leaders.  Under  these 
conditions  of  photographing  I  always  thrust  my  left 
arm  through  the  bridle  rein.  If  the  ponies  are  to- 
gether the  rein  may  be  thrown  upon  the  ground,  the 
ponies  will  not  stray  but  allow  the  riders  to  approach 
and  remount  without  their  stirring.  Sunlocks  walked 
rapidly  around  me,  a  somewhat  disturbing  element  in 
photographing.  When  I  remounted,  the  other  ponies 
had  passed  out  of  the  amphitheater  and  beyond  vision. 
Sunlocks  was  all  impatience  to  overtake  them  and  I 
gave  him  a  free  rein  for  the  wildest  gallop  I  ever 
experienced.  He  followed  the  trail  of  the  others,  toss- 
ing the  lichens  from  the  resounding  shell  of  lava  at 
every  leap.  It  happened  in  an  instant,  a  flash.  I  just 
remember  of  thinking,  while  I  was  in  the  air,  "Will  he 
hit  me  with  his  hoofs?"  Then  all  was  a  blank.   I  knew 


156  ICELAND 

no  more  till  I  felt  his  velvet  nose  rubbing  over  my  face 
and  his  warm  breath.  How  long  I  lay  there  I  do  not 
know.  The  crust  had  broken  under  the  plunging  blow 
of  his  fore-feet  and  as  he  went  into  the  hole  I  shot  over 
his  head  down  the  slope.  I  landed  on  the  side  of  my 
head,  straining  the  cords  of  my  neck  which  were  sore 
for  months,  in  a  bunch  of  sand  and  lichens,  the  only 
spot  in  sight  that  was  softer  than  the  rock.  Picking 
up  the  camera  case  I  remounted  after  several  failures. 
How  I  finally  accomplished  it  and  rode  on  I  do  not 
know.  Half  an  hour  afterwards  I  overtook  the  party 
who  had  long  been  waiting  and  was  sending  Johannes 
back  to  look  for  me.  I  was  still  in  a  dazed  condition 
when  I  rode  up  to  Mrs.  Russell  and  when  she  asked  me 
the  cause  of  the  delay  she  states  that  I  replied  with  this 
question, — 

"Is  my  head  on  straight?" 

It  was  a  narrow  escape  for  horse  and  rider  and  I 
have  never  since  ridden  the  lava  sheets  at  a  gallop. 
Poor  Michael  Sunlocks !  His  fore-legs  were  bruised 
and  he  was  stiff  and  lame  for  several  days.  Why  he 
stayed  with  me  in  spite  of  his  desire  to  overtake  his 
mates  I  do  not  understand.  It  is  a  trait  of  the  Icelandic 
hestr.  I  have  had  several  tumbles  from  my  ponies  since 
that  summer  and  at  no  time  did  any  of  them  leave  me. 
My  friends  sometimes  ask  why  I  extol  the  Icelandic 
pony.  My  explanation  is  that  they  are  intelligent  be- 
yond the  intelligence  of  other  horses,  the  sole  depen- 
dent of  the  traveller  in  a  roadless  country  and  that  one 
of  them  gave  up  the  impulse  to  join  his  companions 
in  the  grass  patch  when  I  was  in  sore  need. 


CHAPTER  XI 

KRISUVIK 

*    *    *    "Whose  combustible 
And  fuel'd  entrails  thence  conceiving  fire, 
Sublimed  with  mineral  fury,  aid  the  winds, 
And  leave  a  singed  bottom  all  involved 
With  stench  and  smoke." 

— Milton. 

FROM  Galtalaekur  we  turned  towards  the  sea. 
All  the  long  day  we  traversed  the  sands  of 
Hekla  and  the  bordering  marshes.  In  the  lat- 
ter there  is  an  abundance  of  the  sand  reed, 
Elymus  arenarius,  growing  to  a  height  of  four  feet  or 
more  with  heavy  panicles  nodding  in  the  wind.  In 
times  of  famine  the  seeds  of  this  plant  have  often 
been  ground  and  used  to  make  bread.  Innumerable 
trails  cross  each  other  in  these  plains  and  exact  knowl- 
edge of  the  locality  is  necessary  in  order  to  avoid  wand- 
ering. 

We  overtook  a  girl  of  fourteen  on  the  back  of  a 
pony.  To  the  tail  of  the  pony  was  tied  a  string  of 
ponies,  nose  to  tail  in  the  Icelandic  fashion.  Each  pony 
carried  two  huge  cans  of  milk,  one  on  either  side  in  a 
bag  suspended  from  a  peg  in  the  pack  saddle.  The 
girl  made  the  long  ride  to  the  creamery  and  back  each 
day  and  alone.  She,  like  the  lad  at  Hrutti,  was  im- 
proving her  time  in  study.  As  the  ponies  always 
walked  to  avoid  churning  the  milk,  she  had  ample  time 
to  read.  In  ways  like  this  the  youth  of  Iceland,  de- 
prived of  modern  educational  advantages,  employ  their 
time  in  study  for  the  pleasure  it  gives.  When  study 
is  a  pleasure,  ignorance  is  baffled.  The  milk  establish- 
ment being  near  our  trail,  we  entered  it  to  compare  it 

157 


i58  ICELAND 

with  the  fine  institutions  of  this  character  in  other  lands. 
The  comparison  was  wholly  favorable  to  Iceland.  With- 
in the  building  extreme  cleanliness  was  manifest  in  the 
spotless  floor,  the  white  aprons  and  caps  of  the  dairy- 
maids and  the  glistening  implements  of  the  industry. 
The  Icelandic  creamery  is  on  a  sound  scientific  basis 
and  conducted  on  a  strictly  cooperative  plan.  Modern 
machinery  is  employed  which  is  operated  with  water 
power.  A  laboratory  opens  out  of  the  weighing  and 
sampling  room  and  it  is  well  equipped  for  expert  test- 
ing. The  maid  in  charge  showed  us  the  lists  of  the 
cooperating  farms,  the  fat  percentages  and  butter 
yields.  The  milk  is  received  on  the  basis  of  the  yield 
of  butter  fats  and  the  skim  milk  from  the  separators 
is  returned  to  the  farmers.  The  butter  is  shipped  in 
great  casks  to  England  and  successfully  competes  with 
the  fine  product  of  Denmark.  In  the  best  grazing  cen- 
ters there  are  several  of  these  creameries  under  the  gen- 
eral supervision  of  the  Agricultural  College. 

Iceland  could  produce  many  more  tons  of  choice  but- 
ter from  the  abundance  of  the  nutritious  grass  which 
clothes  the  summer  pastures,  if  the  hay  crop  were  of 
sufficient  quantity  to  warrant  the  keeping  of  extra  cows 
through  the  long  winter.  Grass  grows  in  abundance 
but  the  low  temperature  and  the  short  summer  prevent 
it  from  coming  to  full  maturity  so  that  the  home  fields 
are  cut  long  before  the  grass  is  ripe  and  often  before 
it  forms  the  seed  heads.  Frequently  it  is  only  six  inches 
high  at  the  time  of  cutting.  Given  a  little  warmer  sum- 
mer to  produce  more  grass  and  Iceland  would  become 
a  flourishing  dairy  land. 

These  grassy  plains  border  two  places  of  historical 
importance  in  Iceland.  This  is  the  margin  of  the  Njal 
Country.  At  the  foot  of  the  trifingered  mountain  in  the 
fertile  plains  of  the  Markarfljnt  is  HliSarendi,  Grass- 
Slope,   the  home  of  Gunnar  of  Saga   fame.       In  his 


Favorite  Ponies,  Sunlocks  and  Greba. 


Mountains  of  Sulfur,  Solfataras,  at  Krisuvik, 


KRISUVIK  159 

day  Hekla  had  wrought  but  little  of  the  present  desola- 
tion and  the  land  was  rich  in  flocks  and  herds  cared  for 
by  numerous  thralls.  The  ice-capped  mountain  rose 
behind  the  farm  and  towards  the  sea  sloped  the  pro- 
ductive meads.  Gunnar  and  his  friend,  Kolskegg,  were 
exiled  for  three  winters  for  the  part  they  had  taken 
in  a  blood  feud.  As  they  rode  down  to  the  Lithe  on 
their  way  to  take  ship  to  foreign  shores,  GiinnarJs 
horse  stumbled  and  threw  him.  As  he  rose  to  his  feet 
he  looked  towards  his  pleasant  home  and  exclaimed, — 
"Fair  is  the  Lithe;  so  fair  that  it  has  never  seemed  to 
me  so  fair;  the  corn  fields  are  white  to  harvest,  and 
the  home  mead  is  mown;  and  now  I  will  ride  back 
home,  and  will  not  fare  abroad  at  all." 

If  an  outlawed  man  refused  within  the  given  time 
to  go  into  the  specified  exile,  any  one  could  slay  him 
without  breaking  any  law.  This  his  enemies  took  ad- 
vantage of  and  during  the  following  autumn  killed  him 
in  his  house. 

Near  at  hand  is  Oddi,  Point,  as  of  land,  made  fa- 
mous by  the  school  of  Saemund  Si gf us  son,  the  Learned, 
a  popular  center  of  learning  in  the  ancient  days  of  Ice- 
landic glory.  Here,  also,  in  1181  went  the  youthful 
Snorri  Sturlason  then  only  three  years  of  age,  into  fost- 
ering. This  school  was  called  the  "highest-head-stead" 
which  signifies  that  it  was  not  only  the  wealthiest  in 
Iceland  but  the  most  renowed  for  scholarship.  Snorri 
was  an  apt  pupil,  a  brilliant  scholar  and  one  who  delved 
deeply  into  the  old  Latin  manuscripts,  long  since  lost, 
in  the  rich  library  at  Oddi.  It  was  here  that  he  ac- 
quired the  knowledge  of  European  history  which  gave 
birth  to  his  story  of  the  Round  World,  H tints kringla, 
a  story  of  the  Kings  of  Norway.  Snorri  was  the  first 
pragmatic  historian  who  ever  wrote  in  the  Teutonic 
language.  To  him  are  indebted  the  German  and  the 
English  historians  of  later  days,  though  they  do  not 


160  ICELAND 

always  take  the  trouble  to  acknowledge  it.  Without 
his  gleanings  from  that  old  library  at  Oddi  many  pages 
of  history  would  be  missing.  That  he  was  faithful  we 
may  well  believe  when  we  note  the  following  from  his 
preface : — 

"In  this  book  have  I  let  write  tales  told  concerning 
those  chiefs  who  have  borne  sway  in  the  Northlands, 
and  spake  the  Danish  tongue,  even  as  I  have  heard 
men  of  lore  tell  the  same;  and  also  certain  of  their  lines 
of  kindred  according  as  they  have  been  taught  to  me. 
Some  of  this  is  found  in  the  Tales  of  Forefathers, 
wherein  kings  and  other  men  of  high  degree  have 
traced  their  kin;  but  some  is  written  after  olden  songs 
or  story-lays,  which  men  have  had  for  their  ioyance. 
Now  though  we  wot  not  surely  the  truth  thereof,  yet 
this  we  know  for  a  truth,  that  men  of  lore  of  old  time 
have  ever  held  such  lore  for  truth."     Again, — 

"Now  it  is  the  manner  of  scalds,  (poets),  to  praise 
those  most  whom  they  stand  before  while  giving  forth 
their  song,  but  no  one  would  dare  to  tell  the  king  him- 
self deeds,  which  all  who  harkened,  yea  and  himself 
withal,  wotted  well  were  but  windy  talk  and  lying; 
for  no  praise  would  that  be,  but  mocking  rather." 

At  Thjorsdtun,  Farm  of  Bull-River,  we  found  mod- 
ern buildings  constructed  of  wood  with  many  conti- 
nental conveniences.  The  farmer,  Olaftir  Isleifsson,  had 
lived  in  Winnipeg  about  six  years  and  had  returned 
to  his  native  land  with  many  western  ideas.  He  spoke 
some  English  and  was  glad  to  greet  travellers  from 
America.  It  was  a  relief  to  find  a  bed  of  sufficient 
length  to  permit  one  to  stretch  at  full  length.  The  food 
was  cooked  on  a  real  iron  stove  and  we  were  treated 
to  a  beef  steak,  the  first  we  had  seen  in  the  country. 
The  salmon  were  fresh  and  broiled  to  a  turn,  the  coffee 
excellent  as  usual,  and  with  rolls,  cheese  and  eggs  we 
made   a    substantial   meal,    having  been   without   food 


KRISUVIK  161 

for  ten  hours.  It  was  a  cool  night  and  having  a  slight 
chill,  I  gave  the  hot  water  bag  to  the  host  with  the 
request  that  he  fill  it  with  hot  water.  He  looked  at  it 
with  a  peculiar  expression  as  if  wondering  how  it  could 
be  used  as  a  drinking  vessel.  On  its  return  it  was 
filled  with  ice-cold  water.  As  it  is  the  Icelandic  custom 
to  bring  drinking  water  to  the  guest  on  retiring,  the 
farmer  evidently  thought  we  preferred  the  rubber  bag 
to  the  customary  glass  bottle.  Anticipating  the  luxury 
of  the  hot  water  and  promising  with  every  shiver  to  re- 
store quiet  to  my  quivering  limbs  the  disappointment 
was  keen.  I  had  not  the  courage  to  call  attention  to 
his  mistake  by  asking  a  second  time  but  replied  as 
cheerfully  as  I  could,  "tak,"  thanks. 

This  farm  is  located  on  a  high  bank  overlooking  the 
broad  expanse  of  rolling  lava  and  grass  lands  through 
which  the  canyon  of  the  Thjorsa  extends.  A  fine  sus- 
pension bridge  spans  the  flood  and  the  view  of  the 
white  water  foaming  down  the  rift  is  excellent.  Be- 
yond the  river  a  good  road,  the  post  road,  lends  all  the 
way  to  Eyrarbakki,  Beach-Bank.  The  country  is  le  ! 
and  produces  an  abundance  of  grass.  This  section  con- 
tains nearly  all  the  made  roads  in  Iceland.  When  we 
passed  we  noticed  much  activity  in  road  construction 
and  in  the  erection  of  telephone  lines.  These  roads 
will  be  of  great  value  to  the  farmers  in  this  section  who 
are  just  beginning  to  use  carts  with  two  wheels  affer 
transporting  their  produce  on  the  backs  of  ponies  fo** 
about  twelve  hundred  years.  The  ponies  do  not  eniov 
the  harness,  but  prefer  the  saddle.  During  f'  ■  days 
we  met  many  ponies  hauling  telephone  poles  an  1  grad- 
ing material.  Every  one  of  them  had  a  deleted  look 
much  like  that  of  a  new  convict.  We  fancied  that  the 
saddle  ponies,  as  they  called  to  the  nr<soners  in  the 
harness,  realized  the  better  condition  of  their  own  labor 
and  that  they  looked  down  upon  the  plodders  in  the 


1 62  ICELAND 

thills,  much  as  the  chauffeur  looks  upon  the  pedestrian 
as  he  envelopes  that  individual  with  dust.  The  made 
road  is  not  liked  by  the  pony,  accustomed  to  travel  the 
crooked  trails,  which  in  the  lowlands  are  always  soft, 
and  he  shuns  the  hard  roads  whenever  he  can.  The 
trails  are  much  easier  for  the  rider  as  there  is  less 
pounding  in  the  saddle.  After  a  journey  of  a  thou- 
sand miles  on  the  lowland  and  upland  trails,  the  fol- 
lowing summer  our  last  day's  ride  was  from  Thingvellir 
to  Reykjavik  a  distance  of  thirty-five  miles  over  a  hard 
macadamed  road,  and  it  was  the  hardest  day's  ride 
of  the  two  summers. 

We  rode  along  the  base  of  a  lofty  table  land,  a  giant 
block  of  basalt  shaped  like  a  mesa,  which  is  called 
Ingolfsfjall,  Ingolfs- Mountain.  At  the  request  of 
Ingolfr,  who  was  the  first  real  settler  in  Iceland,  he 
was  buried  at  the  top  of  this  mountain.     He  said, — 

"I  wish  to  be  buried  there  in  order  that  I  may  be- 
hold my  vast  possessions  from  its  summit  at  the  last 
day." 

The  fata  Morgana  tantalized  us  all  the  afternoon 
as  we  rode  down  to  the  sea.  The  village  of  Eyrarbakki 
loomed  high  above  the  level  plain  and  we  were  sur- 
prised at  the  extreme  height  of  the  houses  until  they 
disappeared,  all  but  the  tops.  Looming  up  into  the 
vibrating  air  and  sinking  into  the  sand  they  alternated 
with  the  shifting  strata  of  variously  heated  air.  Late 
in  the  afternoon  the  objects  on  the  shore  became  fixed 
and  real,  like  other  houses  in  the  country.  We  clattered 
up  the  one  street  by  the  sea  to  the  home  of  Fru  Eugenia 
Nieh'vi.  It  is  the  finest  house  in  the  village  and  a  por- 
tion of  it  is  over  two  hundred  years  old.  There  are 
stone  and  turf  houses  in  Iceland  that  are  much  older  but 
this  one  is  constructed  entirely  of  wood.  The  Neilsins 
are  Danish  merchants  engaged  in  the  wool  and  fish 
trade  and  importers  of  general  supplies  for  the  farm- 


KRISUVIK  163 

ers.  We  found  Fru  Neilsin  a  delightful  hostess,  who 
exerted  herself  to  make  our  short  stay  one  long  to  be 
remembered  with  gratitude.  Back  of  the  house  was 
an  excellent  garden  with  some  splendid  potatoes;  in 
front  there  was  a  well  kept  lawn,  almost  English  in 
character,  and  here  we  enjoyed  croquet  at  eleven  at 
night.  The  village  has  a  population  of  about  three 
hundred  people,  mostly  engaged  in  fishing.  I  examined 
the  lumber  yard  and  noted  a  high  grade  of  Norway 
spruce.  Although  not  a  stick  of  timber  grows  in  Ice- 
land it  can  be  purchased  at  less  than  half  the  price 
asked  in  New  England. 

Within  the  house  we  found  refinement  and  comfort, 
culture  and  hospitality.  As  fortunes  are  reckoned  in 
Iceland  these  people  are  wealthy.  The  household  fur- 
nishings are  valuable  for  their  antiquity  and  the  handi- 
craft with  which  they  were  constructed.  It  is  not 
the  writer's  intention  to  describe  the  furnishings 
of  the  different  homes  in  which  he  has  been  en- 
tertained nor  to  differentiate  in  degrees  of  hospitality. 
The  welcome  and  the  entertainment  were  sincere  and 
as  cordially  proffered  in  the  poorest  hut  in  the  moun- 
tains as  in  the  more  favored  homes  by  the  sea.  This 
being  the  only  Danish  home  in  the  country  where  we 
were  entertained,  justice  demands  that  we  make  it  clear 
to  the  reader  that  the  modern  Dane  is  not  lacking  in 
the  inborn  hospitality  of  his  ancient  race.  We  fre- 
quently found  proof  of  this  on  the  little  Danish  ships 
plying  between  Iceland  and  Copenhagen  and  in  Cop- 
enhagen itself.  And  so  Fru  Neilsin  set  her  table  with 
her  finest  service  and  her  Icelandic  kitchen  maid  pro- 
duced a  dinner  that  night  for  two  hungry  travellers 
that  would  have  done  credit  to  the  chef  of  a  first  class 
hotel. 

Entertainment  has  a  different  meaning  to  an  Ameri- 
can after  he  has  experienced  it  in  Iceland.    What  would 


1 64  ICELAND 

Americans  think  if  two  foreigners,  travel-soiled,  un- 
able to  speak  their  language,  should  ride  upon  their 
lawns,  throw  the  bridle  to  the  ground,  and  through  an 
interpreter  make  a  request,  much  in  the  nature  of  a 
demand,  for  food  and  lodging?  I  fear  that  in  most 
cases  they  would  be  cooly  invited  to  continue  their 
journey.  Not  so  in  Iceland.  The  stranger  is  taken  to 
the  best  room,  provided  with  soap,  towels  and  food. 
His  riding  habit  is  taken  away  to  be  cleaned  and  re- 
turned in  the  morning  when  the  morning  cup  of  coffee 
and  the  cakes  are  taken  to  the  bed  room.  The  break- 
fast, like  the  dinner,  is  of  the  best  the  house  can  afford, 
the  ponies  are  taken  to  the  door,  you  pay  the  modest 
reckoning  and  ride  away  conscious  of  a  kindly  and  gen- 
erous liberality. 

The  Olfusd,  as  the  lower  end  of  the  Hvitd  is  called, 
is  a  mighty  river.  It  receives  the  waters  of  Thingval- 
lavatn  the  Laxd  the  Tiingufljot,  Farm  a,  Warm- 
River,  and  several  other  tributaries.  At  the  sea  this 
lake  narrows  to  half  a  mile  by  a  projecting  bank  of 
sand.  The  flood  of  water  pours  out  this  narrow  chan- 
nel at  low  tide  with  a  strong  current.  The  water  is  icy 
cold  and  it  is  so  laden  with  glacial  clay  that  it  is  still 
"Hvitd"  White  River.  At  Oseyri,  Beach-Mouth,  we 
obtained  a  boat  and  two  local  guides,  who  knew  the 
river,  to  ferry  us  across.  We  waited  for  low  tide  as  it 
is  impossible  to  swim  the  ponies  across  this  broad  es- 
tuary at  high  tide.  The  boat  was  taken  half  a  mile  up 
stream  to  allow  for  the  drift  of  the  current  in  cross- 
ing, the  ponies  were  stripped  of  saddles,  bridles  and 
packing  cases  and  Johannes  tied  a  cod  line  around  the 
lower  jaw  of  each  horse  and  left  the  lines  about  eight 
feet  long.  All  the  luggage  was  placed  in  the  bottom 
of  the  leaky  boat  with  the  packing  boxes  at  the  bottom. 
We  sat  on  the  top  of  the  baggage  and  the  two  oarsmen, 
stout  fellows,  worked  the  boat  into  the  stream.    Johan- 


KRISUVIK  165 

nes  handled  the  ponies  in  the  following  manner.  He 
knelt  in  the  stern  of  the  dory  with  four  of  the  lines  in 
each  hand.  The  ponies  hung  back  for  some  time,  as  the 
cold  and  rapidly  flowing  water  frightened  them.  It 
required  full  five  minutes  of  careful  coaxing  to  bring 
them  into  the  water  beyond  their  depth.  This  was  a 
delicate  bit  of  oar  work  as  the  current  tended  to  sweep 
the  boat  sideways  towards  the  shore  and  against  the 
legs  of  the  ponies.  As  the  ponies  were  swept  off  their 
feet  and  began  to  swim  the  current  caught  the  boat 
sideways  and  it  required  all  the  energy  of  the  two  oars- 
men to  back  water  sufficiently  to  relieve  the  strain  upon 
the  towing  lines  and  at  the  same  time  keep  the  boat 
pointed  across  the  stream.  The  tethers  were  kept  suffi- 
ciently taut  to  enable  Johannes  to  keep  their  noses 
above  the  water  and  we  now  discovered  why  Johannes 
had  tied  the  cords  around  their  jaws.  He  watched 
them  with  care  and  as  soon  as  one  nose  plunged  below 
the  water  he  gave  that  pony  his  whole  attention  and 
with  the  strong  cord  pulled  the  pony's  nostrils  to  the 
surface  and  held  it  there  till  it  had  blown  out  the 
water.  One  after  another,  and  sometimes  two  at  a 
time,  they  succumbed  to  the  cold  water  and  to  the  dif- 
ficulty of  swimming  so  closely  together.  Only  one  of 
the  eight  swam  the  entire  distance  without  sinking  and 
this  was  the  fiery  "Jog  Joggensen,"  my  afternoon 
mount.  Away  we  went  down  stream,  boat  and  horses 
together,  the  ponies  checking  the  stern  of  the  boat,  the 
current  swinging  the  bow  downwards,  requiring  the 
utmost  exertion  of  the  oarsmen  to  point  it  towards  the 
opposite  shore.  It  seemed  as  if  we  would  be  swept 
over  the  bar  and  out  to  sea  before  we  could  win  the 
beach.  To  add  to  the  difficulty  the  boat  leaked  fright- 
fully and  held  over  a  foot  of  water  by  the  time  we 
landed.  The  plunging  and  snorting  ponies,  the  wild 
rush  of  the  waters  sweeping  out  of  the  estuary  at  low 


1 66  ICELAND 

tide,  the  roar  of  the  breakers  just  below,  the  countless 
gulls  and  tern  circling  over  our  heads,  the  rapidly  sink- 
ing boat  and  the  anxiety  depicted  on  the  face  of  Jo- 
hannes, made  this  anything  but  a  pleasant  crossing. 
Around  us  the  seal  thrust  their  shining  heads  above 
the  water,  questioned  with  their  eyes  our  right  to  in- 
vade their  ancient  domain  and  dived  to  reappear  on  a 
different  quarter.  The  bow  touched  the  sand,  Johannes 
cast  oft  the  eight  lines,  we  jumped  into  the  water  and 
waded  ashore  and  the  ponies  staggered  up  the  slope  and 
lay  down  exhausted  in  the  sand.  They  speedily  re- 
covered, rolled  repeatedly  to  dry  themselves  and  we 
allowed  them  a  brief  rest  before  resaddling. 

When  the  boat  touched  land  at  the  very  verge  of  the 
breakers  with  the  sand  streaming  away  from  us  as  the 
waves  crawled  back  into  the  sea,  at  least  one  member 
of  the  party  gave  a  sigh  of  relief.  It  has  always  been 
a  disputed  point  as  to  which  one  of  us  uttered  that 
sigh.  Many  ponies  have  been  lost  at  this  crossing  by 
being  swept  out  to  sea.  We  were  fortunate  in  saving 
all  of  ours,  but  Johannes  stated  that  he  had  lost  several 
in  this  tide  race.  As  we  lifted  the  packing  cases  out 
of  the  water  in  the  boat  it  was  with  grave  fears  as  to  the 
condition  of  the  camera  films,  for  the  water  had  filled 
all  spaces  within  those  cases. 

At  noon  we  arrived  at  a  small  farm  under  a  high 
cliff  at  some  distance  from  the  sea.  It  is  called  Hl'iSnr- 
endi,  (not  to  be  confounded  with  Hlidarendi,  the  home 
of  Gunnar),  the  usual  Icelandic  farm  in  an  unusual  sit- 
uation. The  buildings  stand  at  the  back  of  an  amphi- 
theatre. The  surrounding  cliffs  are  five  hundred  feet 
in  elevation  above  the  buildings.  At  the  base  of  the 
cliff  three  generous  streams  of  water  flow  out  of  the 
mountain.  This  is  water  that  has  sunk  into  the  moor- 
land near  the  base  of  the  distant  mountains  and  has 
found  a  passage  through  the  cracked  lava.     Climbing 


KRISUVIK  167 

to  the  top  of  the  bluff  I  found  an  extensive  moorland 
where  numerous  sheep  were  grazing  and  hundreds  of 
whimbrels  and  plover.  I  spent  two  hours  in  stalking 
the  plover  with  the  camera.  They  finally  allowed  me 
to  approach  within  fifteen  feet  of  them.  In  the  winter 
several  hundreds  of  ptarmigan  live  upon  this  heath  and 
the  farmer  shoots  them  for  the  English  market.  They 
are  shipped  in  a  frozen  condition  and  are  used  in  the 
London  Clubs. 

The  view  from  the  bluffs  is  extensive.  At  the  foot 
of  the  cliffs  lay  the  tun  dotted  with  bundles  of  hay.  Be- 
yond the  tun  extends  a  waste  of  lava  blocks  and  sand 
and  then  the  sea,  blue  and  surging.  To  the  north 
rises  range  above  range  of  the  barren  volcanoes  of 
Reykjaness,  Smoking  Cape.  I  found  the  descent  of  the 
bluffs  much  more  difficult  than  the  ascent.  The  cliffs 
are  clothed  with  a  rich  carpet  of  grass  and  an  abundance 
of  Bowers  in  full  bloom.  Here  the  Spiraea  lifts  its 
purple  spikes  high  above  the  grass,  the  dandelions  and 
Arnica  sprinkle  the  area  with  patches  of  bright  yellow: 
beside  the  water  pockets  and  embedded  in  the  spha- 
gnum moss  the  orchids  bloom  profusely:  wild  geran- 
iums fringe  the  angular  lava  and  many  plants  peculiar 
to  this  high  latitude  fill  in  the  remainder  of  the  fforal 
scheme. 

Mrs.  Russell  had  considerable  labor  in  restoring 
order  to  the  packing  cases  and  in  spreading  our  clothes 
upon  the  rocks  to  dry.  In  the  passage  of  the  Olfusd, 
our  cases  filled  with  water  though  they  were  supposed 
to  be  waterproof.  The  jog,  jog,  jog  of  the  ponies  had 
stirred  up  towels,  soap,  bread,  tobacco,  camera  films, 
cocoa,  tea,  note  books  and  other  items  and  churned 
these  ingredients  into  one  common  mass  with  salt  water 
better  than  it  could  have  been  done  with  any  Yankee 
washing  machine.  This  was  the  reason  we  ended  our 
journey  at  noon  this  day.     The  camera  films  were  un- 


1 68  ICELAND 

injured  as  I  had  taken  the  precaution  to  place  each  film 
in  a  metal  box  and  seal  it.  These  same  boxes  have 
since  been  around  the  world  with  another  traveller  and 
did  similar  excellent  service  for  him  in  the  jungles 
of  India.  All  camera  films  taken  to  Iceland  for  trans- 
portation on  a  pony  should  be  soldered  water  proof. 
They  are  easily  opened  and  the  empty  tin  will  take  the 
exposed  film.  This  can  may  be  securely  sealed  against 
moisture  by  winding  the  joint  with  several  turns  of 
waterproof  tape. 

I  turned  to  the  hayfield  and  finding  an  unused  rake 
I  went  to  work,  not  that  I  needed  the  exercise  after  my 
climb  of  the  bluffs,  but  that  I  might  have  further  ex- 
cuse for  observing  the  people  at  their  work.  I  have 
previously  made  several  observations  about  the  haying 
and  the  tools  but  there  remain  other  items  of  interest. 
The  rake  may  be  called  a  fine  toothed  comb.  It  is 
made  in  the  usual  form  of  the  American  hand  rake 
with  the  exception  of  the  teeth,  which  are  from  an  inch 
to  an  inch  and  a  half  in  length  and  set  closely  together. 
They  are  whittled  out  of  the  tough  and  crooked  roots 
of  the  Arctic  birch.  This  implement  serves  its  pur- 
pose admirably,  for  it  gathers  all  the  short  fine  hay. 
The  Icelandic  scythe  has  been  described,  but  it  remains 
to  mention  an  instrument  not  used  in  America,  the 
reipe,  rope.  This  consists  of  two  eyelets  whittled  out 
of  wood  or  more  often  fashioned  from  a  ram's  horn. 
The  eyelets  are  connected  with  a  rope  a  foot  long.  To 
each  eyelet,  and  at  right  angles  to  the  connecting  rope, 
there  is  attached  another  rope  which  is  from  twelve  to 
eighteen  feet  in  length.  In  use  these  two  ropes  are 
laid  in  parallel  on  the  ground,  the  hay  is  heaped  upon 
the  center  to  a  weight  of  eighty  to  one  hundred  pounds. 
The  eyelets  are  then  brought  up  to  the  top  of  the  heap, 
the  corresponding  rope  from  the  other  side  is  then 
brought    up    to    its    eyelet    and    passed    through,    the 


KRISUVIK  169 

free  ends  are  drawn  taut  by  the  force  of  two  men, 
a  half  hitch  is  taken  in  each,  the  ends  are  then  turned 
at  right  angles  to  their  original  position  and  passed 
round  to  the  other  side  of  the  bundle  and  fastened  just 
as  a  box  is  tied  in  a  store.  Out  of  the  loose  ends  is 
fashioned  a  loop  to  hang  the  bundle  on  the  pin  of  the 
hay  saddle.  The  bundle  is  then  thoroughly  combed  out 
with  the  rake  and  it  is  ready  for  transportation  to  the 
haystack.  If  it  rains  or  if  the  hay  is  not  sufficiently 
cured,  the  bundle  is  left  in  the  field.  Hay  makes  rap- 
idly in  these  bundles  and  a  long  rain  will  not  pene- 
trate. Haying  is  the  only  agricultural  pursuit  in  the 
country.  Each  farmer  keeps  account  of  the  number  of 
pony  loads  taken  to  the  stacks  each  season.  An  aver- 
age crop  for  the  country  is  about  1,800,000  pony  loads 
which  average  one  hundred  and  ninety  pounds  per  pony 
load.  Of  this  hay  1,000,000  loads  are  taken  from  the 
wild  land,  that  is,  from  the  land  outside  of  the  tun. 
This  wild  land  is  the  moorland,  unfed  patches  in  the 
pastures,  islands,  bogs  and  meadows.  The  tun  is  fer- 
tilized with  the  manure  from  the  cow  stables.  Each 
day  this  material  is  carried  out  on  a  stretcher  by  the 
milk  maids  and  piled  in  a  heap.  This  material  dries 
into  a  hard  cake  during  the  summer.  When  the  time 
comes  for  spreading  it  upon  the  tun  it  is  broken  up 
and  the  fragments  are  placed  in  a  toothed  hopper  and 
ground.  There  are  hundreds  of  tons  of  this  best  of 
all  fertilizers  that  go  to  waste  as  the  soil  does  not  need 
it.  If  the  soil  could  be  sufficiently  warmed  by  the  sun 
to  produce  garden  crops  Iceland  would  become  a  great 
market  garden  for  Europe  as  its  soil  is  exceptionally 
rich  and  fertilizer  is  abundant.  Every  farm  has  its 
potato  patch  and  a  bed  of  turnips  in  a  high  walled 
enclosure  near  the  buildings  but  the  farmer  raises  only 
what  he  needs  for  his  own  family.  The  ground  is 
spaded  and  the  potatoes  are  planted  in  beds  as  we  plant 


i7o  ICELAND 

beets  and  lettuce.  There  may  be  ploughs,  mowing  ma- 
chines, pitchforks  and  hayracks  in  Iceland  but  I  have 
never  seen  them  on  any  of  the  many  farms  I  have  vis- 
ited. I  have  seen  a  photograph  purporting  to  be  from 
Iceland  which  shows  some  of  these  instruments  but 
there  are  other  items  in  the  picture,  such  as  the  cos- 
tumes of  the  people,  which  prove  that  the  negative 
was  made  in  Sweden. 

The  ride  along  the  sea  coast  to  Krisuvik  is  mostly  a 
scramble  over  a  mass  of  lava  which  is  strangely  con- 
torted and  blistered.  A  mountain  bluff  extends  parallel 
with  the  coast  line  about  a  mile  from  the  shore.  Prior 
to  the  settlement  of  the  country  an  eruption  of  one  of 
the  volcanoes  in  this  region  poured  out  a  large  volume 
of  fluid  lava  which  rolled  over  this  bluff  in  several 
places  and  then  meandered  in  various  directions.  Dur- 
ing an  entire  day's  ride  we  saw  but  two  houses,  com- 
fortless homes  of  fishermen  on  a  barren  shore  and  far 
from  neighbors.  This  is  a  bird  shore.  Many  thou- 
sands of  sea  birds  nest  in  this  rough  country,  far  away 
from  sheep  and  dogs,  in  undisputed  freedom,  for  they 
are  seldom  disturbed  by  man.  Oftentimes  the  ground 
for  several  square  rods  was  literally  covered  with  them. 
When  our  trail  led  through  these  patches  the  old  birds 
resented  our  intrusion,  swooped  down  and  pecked  at 
the  horses  and  at  our  clothing.  We  were  forced  to 
keep  one  hand  in  continual  motion  about  our  heads  to 
prevent  being  violently  hit  with  their  wings.  Over  my 
desk  hangs  a  quill  pen  made  from  the  wing  feather  of 
the  great  black  backed  gull,  which  I  tore  from  this  bird 
as  it  swooped  against  my  arm. 

We  took  lunch  this  day  at  Si  ran  da  Kirkja,  Church- 
by-the-Strand,  beside  a  stream  of  brackish  water  which 
flowed  from  under  the  lava  wall.  It  was  cool  but  un- 
satisfactory as  a  beverage.  We  found  it  too  sour  to 
drink.       It    contained    some    acid,    probably    sulfuric, 


KRISUVIK  171 

though  I  had  no  barium  chloric!  with  which  to  prove  it. 
After  lunch  we  forded  the  shallows  at  the  mouth  of 
the  nearly  land-locked  bay  of  Vogsosar,  Whale-Mouth, 
and  descended  to  the  shore  over  a  billowy  mass  of  ropy 
lava.  Numerous  tide  pools  were  scattered  about  and 
in  them  were  countless  eider  duck  with  their  young  as 
well  as  many  other  species.  It  is  well  for  these  birds 
and  for  the  people  who  gain  a  livelihood  from  their 
eggs,  down  and  feathers  that  the  sportsman  knows 
nothing  of  these  breeding  places  and  that  the  sound 
of  the  shotgun  never  wakes  the  echoes  of  these  basaltic 
cliffs. 

We   found  our  way  by  following  a   zigzag  line  of 
cairns.     It  was  rough  travelling.     Oftentimes  the  ponies 
were   forced  to  raise  their  fore  feet  to  the  edge  of  a 
block   of  stone  or  lava   shelf  and   then   spring  to   the 
top  like  goats,  again  in  descending  these  stone  stairways 
they  crouched  like  a  cat  for  a  spring,  carefully  lowered 
one  foot  into  a  niche,  placed  the  other  fore  foot  in  a 
similar  niche  below  it  and  then   jumped  to  the  lower 
level.     Never  did  they  slip  or  make  a  false  step,  left 
to  their  own  guidance  they  picked  the  best  places  and 
brought  us  safely  across  a  mass  of  fractured  lava  that 
seemed  impossible  for  them  to  traverse.  Certainly  horses 
ot   other   countries   could   not   have   accomplished   this 
feat.     Thus  climbing  and  descending,  fording  shallows 
and  circling  tide  pools  to  the  annoyance  of  the  birds  we 
traversed  ten  miles  of  a  wild  and  interesting  country, 
absolutely  primaeval  as  far  as  any  trace  of  man's  pres- 
ence is  concerned  save  in  the  scattered  cairns  and  the 
deep  grooves  of  his  horses  hoofs  in  the  lava.     In  one 
place  I  measured  a  trail  ten  rods  long  across  the  smooth 
ledge  that  had  been  worn  to  a  depth  of  seven  inches  and 
a  width  of  eight  inches  by  the  tiny  feet  of  the  ponies 
during  a  thousand  years  or  travel  along  this  shore. 
Leaving  the  sea  we  climbed  a  ridge  of  slag  and  ash 


1 72  ICELAND 

debris  of  brilliant  and  variegated  colors.  Great  masses 
of  this  material,  shaped  like  ropes  of  molasses  candy 
that  has  been  pulled,  were  scattered  beside  the  trail  and 
mingled  with  thousands  of  volcanic  bombs.  From  this 
summit  we  looked  across  a  green  valley  to  Eldborg, 
Burning-Dome,  and  beyond  to  the  pleasant  farm  of 
Krisuvik. 

We  were  comfortably  housed  and  more  than  the 
usual  attention  was  given  to  our  comfort.  Here  we 
met  an  old  acquaintance  of  the  Laura,  M.  phil.  Carl 
Kuchler  from  Varel  in  Oldenberg,  Germany.  We  had 
found  him  a  pleasant  acquaintance,  a  man  who  had 
travelled  widely  in  Iceland,  speaking  the  Icelandic  and 
an  author  of  several  books  in  German  upon  Iceland. 
We  were  pleased  to  renew  the  acquaintance.  He  has 
since  been  decorated  by  the  King  of  Denmark  for  the 
work  he  has  done  in  Iceland. 

The  columns  of  steam  rising  from  the  hills  beyond 
the  meadow  and  the  roar  of  the  escaping  gases  at- 
tracted our  attention  and  it  was  with  impatience  that 
we  changed  the  riding  habit  for  a  lighter  one  and 
started  across  the  fields  to  examine  the  spot  which 
Hooker  in  1813  described  as,  "One  of  the  most  aw- 
fully impressive  scenes  that  the  world  can  furnish,  or 
even  imagination  can  conceive."  This  is  strong  lan- 
guage. Had  Hooker  visited  the  solfatara  of  Krafla  his 
description  would  have  been  of  interest.  We  shall  see 
that  Krafla  is  intensly  more  interesting  than  Krisuvik. 

It  seemed  but  a  short  walk,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  at 
most,  from  the  house  to  the  columns  of  steam  belching 
from  the  side  of  the  hill.  Although  we  were  accus- 
tomed to  the  deceptive  distances  in  this  clear  atmos- 
phere, this  time  we  were  thoroughly  deluded.  That 
walk  of  ten  minutes  lengthened  into  one  of  an  hour  as 
the  distance  proved  to  be  fully  three  miles.  Crossing 
the  meadow  we  climbed  a  gentle  slope  of  clay  and  sul- 


KRISUVIK  173 

fur  to  the  very  edge  of  the  solfatara.  What  a  weird 
and  impressive  scene  it  is !  Every  beauty  of  form  and 
color,  every  horror  of  sound  and  odor  are  here  united. 
Unnumbered  tons  of  sublimed  sulfur  are  piled  in  banks 
and  pyramids  at  the  base  of  the  cliffs.  Great  pools  of 
boiling  bolus  hiss,  splutter  and  stink.  The  air  is  foul 
with  hot  hydrogen  sulfid  and  stifling  with  sulfur  dioxid. 
Wavering  columns  of  steam  render  the  walking  danger- 
ous as  oftentimes  one  can  not  see  the  place  where  he 
is  about  to  set  his  foot.  We  crunched  through  the 
beds  of  monoclinic  crystals  and  frequently  slumped  into 
them  to  the  knee  and  when  we  pulled  the  leg  from  the 
hole  a  new  column  of  steam  shot  into  the  air.  Geolo- 
gists who  have  examined  this  place  have  had  unpleasant 
experiences  because  of  approaching  too  near  to  the  cen- 
ters of  activity.  Hooker  states  that  'In  endeavoring 
to  avoid  one  of  these  unpleasant  gusts,  (of  steam), 
which  threatened  to  annoy  me  while  I  was  gathering 
some  specimens,  I  jumped  up  to  my  knees  in  a  semi- 
liquid  mass  of  hot  sulphur."  What  a  thing  of  beauty 
is  a  hole  in  these  warm  sulfur  needles!  They  are  like 
needles,  three  to  six  inches  long  and  glisten  with  the 
purest  amber  glow.  The  viscid  mass  of  clay  and  min- 
eral earths  stick  to  the  boots  and  it  is  often  a  task  to 
withdraw  the  feet  from  the  clinging  mess.  The  ap- 
pearance of  the  surface  is  deceitful,  for  often  when 
it  seems  most  secure  the  crust  breaks  and  a  spurt  of 
hot  steam  shoots  up  beside  the  leg  in  a  very  unplesant 
manner.  A  thin  hard  crust  of  sulfur  often  conceals  a 
seething  mass  of  the  same  material  and  one  literally 
walks,  "Perignes,  suppositos  citteri  doloso."*  Elevated 
rims  about  the  sizzling  pools  hold  the  viscid  mass  in 
place  except  when  a  sudden  eruption  of  steam  causes 
the  material  to  slop  over  the  sides  of  the  basins  in  a 
frightful  manner.     Add  to  this  the  steam-filled  air,  the. 


^Through  fires  placed  under  deceitful  ashes 


1 74  ICELAND 

moaning  of  the  cauldrons,  the  roar  of  the  escaping 
gases  from  a  hole  high  up  in  the  side  of  the  talus  and 
the  thought  that  the  whole  area  may  collapse  into  the 
bowels  of  the  earth  or  explode  with  volcanic  force  and 
the  mental  situation   is  complete. 

That  vent  in  the  cliff  pours  out  its  hot  gases  with 
such  a  force  that  it  sounds  like  the  whistle  of  a  locomo- 
tive and  the  sound  is  plainly  audible  in  the  bedchamber 
three  miles  distant.  Day  after  day  and  century  after 
century  this  safety  valve  has  been  sounding  and  it  is 
sounding  as  we  write, — an  awful  sound  to  unaccus- 
tomed ears,  a  pleasant  one  to  those  who  live  within  the 
radius  of  this  wide  belt  of  volcanic  activity,  for  it  signi- 
fies safety  from  violent  eruption  as  long  as  the  generat- 
ing forces  beneath  the  surface  are  continually  spent. 

It  has  been  estimated  that  there  are  no  less  than 
250,000  tons  of  sulfur  in  this  place  and  it  is  constantly 
increasing  by  sublimation  from  below.  The  hot  area  is 
on  a  line  with  hundreds  of  others  of  a  like  character, 
active  or  temporally  quiet,  extending  in  a  line  from 
Krisuvik  to  Thingvallavatn,  a  distance  of  thirty  miles. 
This  line  is  also  on  the  main  diagonal  of  volcanic  ac- 
tivity extending  from  Reykjaness  to  Myvatn  in  the 
northeast.  Over  five  hundred  square  miles  of  the  fire 
peninsular  is  of  recent  volcanic  origin  and  the  subarea 
is  highly  heated.  Numerous  hot  springs  abound, 
fumaroles  are  without  number,  earthquakes  are  many, 
lava  frequently  issues  from  the  fissures  in  the  mountain 
sides  and  there  is  evidently  beneath  the  crust  of  earth 
another  Phlegethon,  that  flaming  river  of  the  under 
world  in  whose  channel  flowed  flames  instead  of  water. 

Around  Krisuvik  there  are  many  extinct  craters  filled 
with  water.  Gestavatn,  Guest-Lake,  near  the  solfatara 
is  of  this  character.  It  is  said  to  be  without  a  bottom 
but  this  is  because  it  is  funnel-shaped  and  very  deep  in 
the  center,  which  marks  the  old  volcanic  tube.     It  is 


KRISUVIK  175 

strange  that  in  the  midst  of  this  heated  territory  the 
waters  of  this  lake  should  be  icy  cold.  It  is  a  beautiful 
sheet  of  water,  so  deep  and  so  clear  that  it  holds  the 
reflected  blue  of  the  sky  appearing  now  to  be  a  sheet 
of  lapis  lazuli  and  now  a  sapphire  blaze.  Around  its 
margin  a  rim  of  grass  and  flowers  thrive  but  beyond 
the  ring  volcanic  rubble  and  patches  of  sulfur  and  clay 
displace  the  vegetation.  At  a  greater  distance  the  bril- 
liant surface  of  Kleifavatn,  Cliff-Lake,  reflects  the  en- 
circling bluffs  and  ragged  gorges  within  whose  recesses 
a  small  herd  of  reindeer  seek  seclusion  from  the  travel- 
ler. Down  by  the  sea  the  Eldborg  stands,  well  worthy 
of  inspection.  It  is  a  mound-shaped  crater  with  very 
thin  walls.  It  would  seem  as  if  Pluto  was  sparing  of 
his  solid  material  when  he  built  this  funnel,  for  he 
made  it  as  frail  as  possible  as  if  in  haste  to  pour  out 
the  molten  matter  in  a  flood  upon  the  surrounding 
plains.  The  shore  side  of  the  mountain  is  the  home  of 
countless  puffin,  skua  and  other  aquatic  birds.  Along 
the  sands  of  the  sea  the  seal  bask  in  the  sunshine  or 
crawl  back  to  their  element  with  the  retreating  tide. 
Taken  as  a  whole,  the  Krisuvik  region  is  a  place  of 
fascination,  even  though  one  stands  on  the  thin  crust  of 
sulfur  that  feeblv  supports  him,  with  fire  and  brim- 
stone in  incessant  action  beneath  his  feet  and  clouds  of 
stifling  and  vile  smelling  gases  enveloping  him  and 
his  ears  are  closed  to  all  other  sounds  by  the  thundering 
of  the  exploding  steam.  The  beauty  of  the  lakes  and 
fells,  the  peacefulness  of  the  little  farm  and  the  kind- 
ness of  its  owners  make  the  traveller  disposed  to  linger 
till  the  margin  of  time  between  the  present  and  the 
sailing  of  the  steamer  from  Reykjavik  has  been  reduced 
to  a  minimum. 

It  was  a  smiling  Sunday  morning  when  we  reluct- 
antly packed  for  the  last  day  of  Icelandic  travel  and 
turned  our  faithful  steeds  towards  their  home  pastures 


176  ICELAND 

for  a  much  needed  rest,  little  thinking  that  we  would 
return  the  following  season  for  a  more  extended  tour 
and  then  again  on  the  succeeding  summer.  On  our 
way  towards  Reykjavik  we  turned  aside  for  one  more 
gaze  at  the  alluring  solfatara,  for  one  more  plunge  into 
the  viscid  sulfur,  for  one  more  sniff  of  its  putrid  air, 
then,  swinging  around  the  shoulder  of  the  smoking 
bluffs  we  wound  our  tortuous  way  to  the  heights  above, 
dismounted  and  looked  down  for  the  last  time  upon 
that  scene  so  fair  and  yet  so  terrible.  Upon  the  rim 
of  a  great  crater  we  held  the  ponies  by  the  bridle  rein 
and  silently  absorbed  the  glories  of  the  panorama.  Be- 
low,— thousands  of  tons  of  yellow  sulfur  sublimed  in 
Nature's  furnace  sloped  downward  to  the  grassy  fields 
awaiting  the  coming  of  some  genius  of  industry  to 
transmute  it  into  the  precious  metal, — from  the  yellow 
mounds  rose  the  never  ending  columns  of  odorous 
steam  filling  the  air  with  quivering  spirals  and  vibrating 
with  a  weird  incessant  roar, — beyond,  the  lazy  sea  in 
azure  blue  mirrored  ten  thousand  waterfowl  on  its 
burnished  surface, — to  the  west,  Hetigill,  arrests  the 
eye,  its  slopes  wreathed  in  a  hazy  mantle  of  vapor  is- 
suing from  the  encircling  springs  and  fumaroles, — 
nearer,  the  deep  cerulean  waters  of  the  crater  lakes, 
the  home  of  the  wild  swan  and  golden-eyed  duck, 
throw  back  the  smiles  of  heaven, — southwest,  Reykjavik 
stands  white  against  the  black  and  ponderous  cliffs  ot 
Esja, — southward,  FaxafjorSr  cradles  a  hundred  sail- 
ing craft  upon  its  bosom  nnd  beyond  the  fiord,  great 
Snaefells  Jokull  projects  its  cone  of  sparkling  ice  six 
thousand  feet  where  the  north  Atlantic  mingles  with 
the  icy  waters  of  the  Arctic  Sea. 

The  ride  of  twenty-five  miles  to  the  capital  city  is 
over  a  series  of  craters  and  across  the  hraun  to  Haf- 
narfjorfrr,  Harbor-Fiord,  thence  by  an  excellent  road 
to  Reykjavik.     The  crossing  of  the  craters  is  of  con- 


KRISUVIK  177 

siderable  interest  to  the  geologist.  The  narrow  trail 
winds  down  the  rim,  across  the  floor  strewn  with  ash 
and  scoriae  then  up  the  farther  side  and  thus  on  from 
crater  to  crater  till  the  mountain  s'de  is  reached  then 
down  the  mountain  side  by  a  winding,  troublesome  trail 
to  the  valley.  Here  is  met  as  wild  a  scene  of  desolation 
as  is  to  be  found  in  the  south  of  Iceland.  The  lava 
flowed  over  the  valley  in  great  billows  and  out  to  the 
ocean.  What  a  commotion  that  was  when  the  fluid  rock 
slipped  hissing  into  the  icy  sea,  what  volumes  of  steam 
filled  the  air,  what  explosions  in  the  cooling  lava  as  the 
ocean  checked  its  destructive  progress !  The  lava  rises 
in  mammoth  blisters  with  numerous  caves  that  shelter 
the  sheep  in  the  autumn  storms.  Over  all  is  spread  a 
thin  mantle  of  lichens  and  within  the  crevices  the  Arctic 
willow  and  dwarf  birch  are  struggling  to  reclaim  for 
vegetation  this  awful  wilderness.  A  wilderness  it  is,  a 
desolation,  a  place  where  witches  hung  their  devil's  caul- 
drons and  brewed  their  fiendish  potions.  So  intense 
were  their  fires  that  their  pots  were  ruined  and  when 
they  fled  they  left  the  curled  and  contorted  fragments 
to  ensnare  the  feet  of  the  orthodox  traveller.  The 
trail  winds  down  the  sides  of  the  cliffs  and  among  the 
towering  blocks  in  a  dizzy  fashion.  A  portion  of  this 
territory  is  called  Sveiflahdls,  Rolling  Hills,  that  is,  an 
undulating  mass  of  lava.  On  the  right  rise  huge  cliffs 
that  have  been  frost-shattered  and  at  the  foot  of  the 
narrow  ravines  that  embouche  into  the  plain  huge  fans 
of  multi-colored  rubble  are  spread  above  the  crumpled 
rock.  From  their  coverts  in  the  crevices  and  from 
within  the  little  caves  spring  the  ptarmagan  while  the 
whimbrel's  call  is  ceaseless  from  the  undulating  hill- 
ocks. No  grass  grows  here,  no  sheep  scurry  before  the 
traveller  and  not  till  the  Kalda,  Cold-River,  is  reached 
is  there  anything  for  the  ponies  to  eat.  This  is  a  de- 
lightful place  to  lunch,  this  grass  grown  mound  within 


1 78  ICELAND 

the  river,  a  tiny  island  in  the  midst  of  ice-cold  and 
sparkling  water.  The  river  itself  is  a  natural  curiosity, 
as  it  rises  in  several  springs  from  under  the  mountain, 
like  those  at  Hlidarendi,  flows  merrily  for  two  miles 
and  then  plunges  into  a  rift  to  be  lost  forever,  unless 
it  has  an  underground  passage  to  the  sea. 

Hafnarfjordr  is  a  prosperous  trading  village  with 
a  good  harbor,  a  high  school  and  many  excellent 
homes.  It  contains  one  house  reported  to  have  been 
built  by  Snorri  Sturlasson.  As  he  was  born  in  1178 
this  house  is  of  great  age  and  worthy  of  a  visit.  It 
was  doubtless  built  as  reported,  for  tradition  in  Iceland 
is  not  like  Virgil's  Fame,  it  is  truth.  The  road  from 
this  village  to  Reykjavik  is  of  the  best  construction  and 
one  must  admire  the  skill  of  the  engineer  as  the  pony 
canters  around  the  curves,  ascends  the  gentle  grades 
and  skirts  the  numerous  small  inlets  of  the  sea.  Many 
of  these  tiny  bays  indent  the  land,  hundreds  of  piles  of 
peat  are  drying  in  the  August  wind,  sheep  and  cattle  are 
scattered  over  the  upland  slopes,  the  late  summer  flow- 
ers are  in  full  bloom,  the  tiny  fishing  craft  are  rocking 
on  the  shimmering  sea  and  the  wash  of  the  water  in  the 
lava  pebbles  on  the  strand  adds  music  to  enhance  the 
pleasure  of  this  seaside  ride.  Out  of  the  austerity  of 
the  volcanic  passes,  into  the  quiet  and  serenity  of  the 
uncharred  meadows,  comes  the  rider,  and  the  load  of 
grandeur  and  sublimity  is  lifted  that  beauty  and  charm 
may  soothe  the  mind  after  the  contemplation  of  these 
natural  creations  that  astonish  and  awe.  This  is  the 
pleasure  road  of  Icelandic  youth  and  those  gentlemen 
who  wish  to  display  the  points  of  the  latest  saddle  pony 
from  the  great  horse  fairs  of  the  north.  If  one  has 
farmed  the  impression  that  Icelanders  are  sedate  and 
morose  and  never  given  to  enjovment  that  breeds  laugh- 
ter, he  should  travel  this  road  on  Sunday  when  it  is 
thronged   with   country    folk   and   city   dwellers   alike. 


KRISUVIK  179 

Gay  groups  are  here  and  there,  songs  that  are  merry 
from  throats  that  are  attuned  fill  the  air,  and  seated 
upon  a  jutting  rock  are  two  young  people  reciting  to 
each  other  in  this  softened  light  that  age-old  story, 
that  sweetest  of  all  stories,  love.  This  seaside  drive 
is  to  the  people  of  Reykjavik  what  Riverside  Drive  is 
to  the  people  of  New  York  City. 

One  afternoon  in  Reykjavik  we  entered  the  shop  of 
a  fish  merchant  and  engaged  a  boat  with  two  men  to 
row  us  across  the  harbor  to  Engey,  Meadow-Island,  a 
few  miles  from  the  city.  The  price  agreed  upon  was 
three  kronur}  about  seventy-nine  cents.  We  were  ab- 
sent seven  hours.  The  boatmen  were  so  considerate 
of  our  pleasure  that  on  the  return  to  the  wharf  I  handed 
to  each  a  krone,  then  went  to  the  shop  of  the  merchant 
and  paid  the  three  kronur  as  agreed.  The  following 
afternoon  this  gentleman  met  me  in  the  street.  He 
had  an  interpreter  with  him  who  accosted  me  as  fol- 
lows : — 

"Are  you  the  gentleman  who  engaged  my  boat  to 
go  to  Engey  yesterday?" 

I  replied  that  I  was. 

"Did  you  not  agree  with  me  for  three  kronur?" 

"I  did.  Did  I  not  go  to  your  shop  on  my  return  and 
pay  you?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  "but  on  landing  you  gave  to  each 
of  the  boatmen  a  krone,  you  then  paid  me  three  kron:tr. 
The  men  left  the  money  at  the  office  last  night.  You 
have  overpaid  me  two  kronur  and  I  have  come  to  re- 
turn them." 

With  this  statement  he  handed  to  me  two  kronur 
which  T  was  obliged  to  accept.  This  incident  taught  me 
that  there  is  one  country  in  Furope  where  a  man  makes 
a  price,  expects  you  to  pay  it  and  neither  expects  nor 
desires  any  tip.  Is  there  any  other  place  in  Europe 
or  in  the  United  States  in  which  hotel  servants,  railway 


180  ICELAND 

porters  or  cabmen  would  turn  their  tips  over  to  their 
employer  at  night?  But,  if  such  a  condition  can  be 
found,  where  is  the  hotel  manager,  railway  official  or 
stable  owner  who  would  search  the  next  day  to  return 
a  tip  to  the  man  who  dared  to  give  it?  Tipping  is  a 
violation  of  a  contract;  in  Iceland  contracts  are  in- 
violate. 

Engey  is  a  delightful  place,  if  one  is  interested  in 
the  eider  duck.  They  breed  in  thousands  on  this  and 
the  neighboring  island  of  Videy,  Wide-Island.  The 
birds  are  tame  and  will  allow  one  to  stroke  their  feath- 
ers or  lift  them  from  their  nests.  The  birds  are  pro- 
tected for  their  down  which  is  a  large  item  of  export 
from  Iceland.  When  building  their  nests  the  birds 
pluck  the  down  from  their  breasts  to  line  the  nests; 
when  these  are  well  lined  the  owner  of  the  land  robs 
the  nests ;  the  birds  then  repluck  their  breasts  and  again 
the  nests  are  robbed.  For  the  third  time  they  pluck 
their  breasts  and  are  not  disturbed  till  after  the  eggs 
hatch,  when  the  remaining  down  is  taken.  It  is  in- 
teresting to  note  that  every  crevice  and  every  space 
under  a  bunch  of  grass  or  the  edge  of  the  turf  is  oc- 
cupied with  the  birds.  One  must  walk  with  caution  so 
as  not  to  step  on  them.  Down  by  the  water  the  earliest 
hatched  sport  in  the  pools  while  the  mother  sits  quietly 
by  with  one  or  two  of  the  puffy  balls  perched  upon  her 
back.  Above,  the  tern,  Kria,  so  named  in  imitation  of 
their  cry,  dart  close  to  the  nests  and  in  a  threatening 
manner  also  at  the  people  who  intrude,  uttering  their 
loud  cries  of  kria,  kria,  kria. 

Late  in  August  we  embarked  in  the  little  mail  boat, 
the  Ceres,  homeward  bound  for  Copenhagen.  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  Mr.  Edward  Newton  of  Lon- 
don, a  fellow  traveller  some  years  before  in  Labrador. 
When  we  parted  in  Halifax  we  had  never  expected  to 
meet  again.     But  here  we  were  in  a  remote  corner  of 


KRISUVIK  181 

the  world,  relating  old  trials  and  comparing  notes  of 
our  Icelandic  experiences.  It  was  a  quiet  Sunday  even- 
ing and  many  Small  boats  hovered  around  the  Ceres 
to  bid  her  farewell  as  she  hoisted  her  anchor  and 
steamed  down  the  glassy  fiord.  There  were  feelings  of 
deep  regret  in  departing  from  these  shores  where  pre- 
conceived ideas  had  been  so  pleasantly  upset  by  what 
we  had  seen  and  felt.  We  were  leaving  an  island,  re- 
markable for  its  physical  characteristics,  astonishing 
for  its  contrasts,  differing  greatly  from  every  other  spot 
on  the  globe.  That  which  had  chiefly  attached  us  to 
Iceland  was  the  display  of  integrity  and  moral  worth, 
the  high  intellectual  attainments  and  the  sincere  friend- 
liness of  its  people. 


ICELAND  REVISITED 

O  cordial  Iceland!     Isle  of  charm! 
Where  one  may  roam  secure  from  harm, 
Where  honest,  kindly  people  toil 
On  heaving  sea   or  barren  soil; 
Where  welcome  hand  and  open  door 
Greet  ev'ry  stranger  to  thy  shore; 

O  charming  isle  !     O  lava  land  ! 

Once  more  I  tread  thy  witching  strand. 

O  lava  land!     O  land  of  light! 
Where  summer  brings  no  shade  of  night, 
Thy  ice-capped  Jokuls  shining  far 
Like  prismic  ray  of  distant  star; 
Thy  trackless  wastes  of  heath  and  sand, 
They  basalt  ridges,  grim  and  grand, 

O  land  of  frost !     O  land  of  fire  ! 

Thy  charm  hath  filled  my  soul's  desire. 

O  land  of  darkness!     Land  of  night! 
Where  winter  sheds  no  ray  of  light, 
Where  Arctic  storms  beat  on  thy  shore 
And  snows  lie  deep  on  berg  and  moor, 
In  humble  homes  thy  people  rest 
Content  with  life,  serene  and  blest. 

O  land  of  night!     O  Arctic  land! 

May  Storm-king  rule  with  gentle  hand. 


182 


ICELAND  REVISITED  183 

O  glacier  land !     O  land  of  steam ! 
Where  chasms  yawn  and  waters  gleam, 
Thy  noxious  gases  whistle  shrill 
From  red-hot  cliffs  in  ice-clad  hill; 
Thy  horrent  lava  spreading  o'er 
The  fertile,  grazing  meads  of  yore. 

O  land  of  geysers !     Land  of  snow  ! 

May  Vulcan  stay  the  powers  below. 

O  isle  of  poets!     Isle  of  song! 
Whose  lines  thy  early  deeds  prolong, 
Thy  Sagas  filled  with  pagan  strife, 
With  blood  for  blood  and  life  for  life, 
'Till  came  the  Cross  with  Christian  sway 
To  rule  the  isle  in  gentler  way. 

O  isle  of  story!     Snorri's  isle! 

Long  may  the  Muses  on  thee  smile. 

O  land  of  light!     O  lava  land! 
Where  sturdy  Vikings  took  their  stand, 
To  brave  the  storm-tossed  Arctic  main, 
To  burst  the  links  of  Harald's  chain, 
To  found  a  nation,  strong  and  free, 
Whose  basal  bond  is  Liberty. 

O  land  of  heroes  !     Land  of  lure  ! 

God  grant  your  freedom  may  endure. 

— W.  S.  C.  R. 


CHAPTER  XII 
seySisfjorSr 

"This  land  of  Rainbows  spanning  glens  whose  walls, 
Rock-built,  are  hung  with  rainbow-colored  mists — 
Of  far-stretched  Meres  whose  salt  flood  never  rests — 
Of  tuneful  Caves  and  playful  Waterfalls — 
Of  Mountains  varying  momently  their  crests." 

— Wordsworth. 

I  VISITED  the  east  coast  of  Iceland  on  two  con- 
secutive summers.  The  first  visit  was  in  19 10  with 
Mrs.  Russell;  the  second  trip  to  this  realm  of  fog 
was  in  1 9 1 1  as  the  geologist  of  the  Stackhouse  Ex- 
pedition to  Jan  Mayen.  During  the  former  year  we 
stopped  at  Eskifjordr,  Ash-Fiord,  Seydisfjordr,  Cook- 
ing-Fiord, and  VopnafjorSr;  during  the  latter  visit  the 
Expedition  spent  several  days  in  the  eastern  fiords  es- 
pecially at  Faskrudsfjordr,  Seydisfjordr  and  in  the  bight 
of  Langaness,  Long-Cape.  We  were  storm  bound  for 
two  days  at  Langaness  and  then  we  returned  to  the 
south  and  followed  the  Norwegian  tramp  steamer  Ask 
into  Faskrudsfjordr.  Here  we  recoaled,  then  returned 
to  the  protection  of  Langaness,  made  slight  repairs  to 
our  engine  and  finally  reached  Jan  Mayen.  On  our 
return  from  the  north  we  again  entered  Seydisfjordr 
for  coal  and  repairs,  before  putting  south  to  Faroe. 
These  wanderings  along  this  mountainous  and  fiord- 
cut  coast  have  given  me  ample  opportunity  to  examine 
the  wonderful  formations,  to  penetrate  the  fiords,  climb 
some  of  the  mountains  and  explore  the  waterfall  regions 
as  well  as  to  observe  the  people  engaged  in  fishing.  The 
narration  in  this  chapter  is  the  result  of  the  observations 
and  experiences  of  two  summers  without  any  attempt 
to  give  the  dates. 

184 


When  the  Fog  Lifted, — Entrance  to  SeySisfjorSr 


Washing  Split  Cod  at  Faskrudsfiordr 


SEYSISFJORSR  185 

Once  more  in  Icelandic  waters,  this  time  off  the  east 
coast.  It  had  been  a  smootli  run  up  from  Faroe,  with 
a  pleasant  ship's  company  and  a  placid  sea.  Morning 
enveloped  us  in  a  fog  dense  as  a  dripping  blanket.  Con- 
fidently the  Botnia  held  her  course  with  her  siren  sound- 
ing every  minute.  At  two  in  the  afternoon  the  echo  of 
the  whistle  announced  that  we  were  under  the  lava  cliffs 
of  Iceland,  but  they  were  invisible.  The  ship  was  stop- 
ped but  she  drifted  strongly  with  the  current  rushing 
out  of  a  fiord.  For  a  long  time  we  had  heard  the 
whistle  of  a  steamer  and  even  the  voices  of  her  invisible 
crew.  It  recalled  to  our  minds  the  phantom  ship  of 
Pierre  Lot'u  Suddenly  she  burst  into  view,  the  Scarpa, 
a  Scotch  whaler,  and  she  ran  under  our  starboard  bow 
to  enquire  of  our  skipper  his  position. 

The  rote  of  the  waves  upon  the  cliffs  of  Krossaness, 
Cross-Cape,  so  named  from  the  snow  formations  in  the 
cross-shaped  ravines  upon  the  mountain  slopes,  grew 
louder.  Just  as  many  of  the  passengers  were  anxious 
for  their  safety,  we  shot  out  of  the  wall  of  fog,  like  a 
needle  through  a  blanket,  into  clear  sunshine.  Behind 
us  the  fear-breeding  fog,  before  us  the  sentinel  moun- 
tains of  a  sunken  valley  whose  bottom  was  filled  with 
placid  water;  it  was  Reydarfjordr,  Whale-Fiord.  The 
full  glory  of  the  glacier-carved  and  snow-bonneted 
mountains,  streaked  with  tumbling  cascades  and  strips 
of  green  sphagnum  burst  upon  us. 

At  midnight  we  dropped  the  anchor  at  Eskifjordr 
at  the  time  when  twilight  and  dawn  mingled  their 
changing  colors.  Such  sunset  glows  upon  snow  and 
multi-colored  lava  are  seldom  witnessed  elsewhere.  A 
flush  of  rose-purple  fell  upon  the  cliffs  and  crept  slowly 
upward  to  the  snow  line.  The  sun  was  setting  in  the 
north  to  rise  in  the  north  within  the  next  few  moments. 
The  livid  shades  poured  through  the  mountain  pass 
upon  the  water  in  the  free-way  and  streamed  up  the 


186  ICELAND 

snow-mantled  lava;  up,  up  the  streamers  went,  deepen- 
ing the  purple  hues  upon  the  reddish  basalt,  tinging 
the  icy  domes  with  a  roseate  flush.  The  village  was 
asleep.  Our  whistle  called  forth  the  postmaster  and  a 
few  laborers,  the  latter  to  assist  in  exchanging  a  por- 
tion of  our  cargo  for  fish,  wool  and  eider  down.  We 
rowed  ashore  and  climbed  the  mountain  at  the  back  of 
the  hamlet  to  an  elevation  of  1800  feet  to  a  large  water- 
fall plunging  beneath  a  snow  arch  which  spanned  the 
gorge. 

At  the  border  of  the  snow  we  gathered  many  Arctic 
flowers  in  full  bloom,  among  them  the  purple  Armaria 
and  the  dainty  blue  Pinguicula  as  well  as  two  species 
of  Orchids.  Standing  on  top  of  the  snow  arch,  which 
reverberated  with  the  roar  of  the  cataract  beneath,  we 
looked  over  the  midnight  fiord.  A  whale  was  anchored 
in  the  offing  awaiting  the  flensing  knives  while  over  it 
the  gulls  were  wheeling  in  anticipation  of  the  morning 
feast;  a  woman  was  washing  clothes  in  the  brook  and 
below  her  a  boy  was  cleaning  trout;  our  steamer  was 
discharging  her  cargo  by  means  of  row  boats,  but  all 
else  in  fiord  and  hamlet  was  quiet.  The  long  fiord 
shimmered  with  the  mingled  midnight  lights  and  the 
purple-tinted  spires  of  the  mountain  ranges  were  re- 
flected in  these  vast  depths.  This  was  Iceland's  second 
greeting,  an  earnest  of  the  glories  we  were  to  experience 
during  the  coming  weeks. 

Eskifjordr  has  long  been  a  place  for  the  cutting  up 
and  rendering  of  whales,  in  ancient  times  the  Viking 
ships,  after  their  long  passage  from  Norway,  found  a 
haven  in  these  eastern  fiords.  The  place  is  renowned 
among  geologists  for  pure  crystals  of  calcium  carbonate, 
Iceland  spar,  "double  refracting  spar."  From  this 
fiord  thousands  of  pieces  of  this  transparent  crystal 
have  gone  forth  to  shine  in  practically  all  of  the  science 
laboratories  of  the  world.     The  vein  has  been  worked 


SEYSISFJORSR  187 

since  early  in  the  seventeenth  century.  It  is  now  nearly 
exhausted.  The  best  deposit  was  in  a  basalt  cavity 
thirty-six  feet  long,  fifteen  feet  wide  and  ten  feet  high. 
It  is  on  the  farm  called  Helgustaftir  an  hour's  ride  from 
the  village.  When  discovered,  the  deposit  tilled  the 
cavity.  Some  of  the  crystals  were  three  feet  across  and 
were  perfectly  transparent.  This  is  the  material  used 
in  making  the  celebrated  Nicol's  prisms  and  seldom  has 
any  spar  suitable  for  this  delicate  work  been  found  else- 
where than  in  Iceland.  Good  deposits  have  recently 
been  located  in  the  west  of  Iceland  so  that  optical  lab- 
oratories may  still  be  supplied  with  this  unique  and 
valuable  crystal.  Doubtless  other  deposits  will  be 
found  when  the  lavas  have  been  thoroughly  explored. 
Included  crystals  and  pockets  of  crystals  of  various 
kinds  are  characteristic  of  the   Icelandic  lavas. 

The  east  coast  of  Iceland  is  deeply  indented  with 
numerous  fiords,  each  of  a  different  formation  though 
the  prevailing  rock  is  pre-glacial  basalt  with  small  out- 
crops of  liparite  and  granophyre.  All  of  the  fiords 
are  navigable  and  the  head  of  each  fiord  receives  a 
river  which  tumbles  from  the  table  lands  in  a  series  of 
grand  waterfalls.  Berufjordr,  Naked-Fiord,  in  the 
southeast  is  noted  for  its  variegated  lavas  and  the  num- 
ber and  variety  of  its  crystals.  The  meteorological  sta- 
tion for  the  east  coast  is  located  here. 

Faskrudsfjordr,  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the 
east-coast  fiords.  It  is  a  glaciated  valley  that  rises  to 
an  elevation  of  1000  feet,  in  a  curve  like  the  hull  of 
a  ship,  where  it  meets  the  ragged  pinnacles  and  sum- 
mer snows.  From  this  line  the  mountains  rise  in  ser- 
rated ridges  and  frozen  spires  which  are  thrust  up 
through  the  folds  of  perpetual  fog.  This  fog  blanket 
excludes  the  warmth  of  the  sun,  holding  the  snows 
throughout  the  summer.  As  a  result  scores  of  streams 
tumble  down  the  naked  gulches,  leap  from  the  precipices 


1 88  ICELAND 

and  cascade  over  the  talus  into  the  fiord.  If  one  stands 
at  the  snow  line  on  one  side  of  the  valley  and  looks 
across  to  the  opposite  side,  he  may  sometimes  obtain  a 
momentary  glimpse  of  the  distant  ridges  when  a  chance 
gust  of  wind  whirls  through  a  mountain  pass  and 
sweeps  away  the  fog  mantle. 

Out  of  the  fog  we  came  one  morning  into  this  quiet 
harbor  after  dodging  about  for  hours  between  the 
basalt  pillars  at  the  entrance,  those  great,  square  piles 
of  lava,  the  clanging  rookeries  of  the  east  coast,  where 
many  a  ship,  more  stanch  than  our  little  Matador,  has 
broken  her  ribs  on  the  jutting  ledges.  We  anchored 
in  midstream  while  the  Ask,  which  had  prior  claim  to 
the  single  wharf,  took  on  board  her  cargo  of  fish.  This 
gave  the  members  of  the  Jan  Mayen  Expedition  ample 
time  to  explore  the  valley  and  climb  the  steep  sides  of 
the  fiord.  We  had  twenty  four  hours  and  every  hour 
was  spent  in  tramping,  photographing  and  taking 
samples  of  the  lavas,  crystals  and  flora. 

This  is  the  station  of  the  French  fishing  fleet  during 
the  spring  and  summer.  For  a  long  time  they  have  had 
rights  in  this  fiord  and  in  the  adjacent  waters  and  it  is 
a  virtual  French  colony,  presided  over  by  the  Abbe  and 
the  French  Consul,  who  is  resident  at  Reykjavik.  The 
treaty  is  with  Denmark  as  Iceland  can  not  make  a 
treaty.  It  has  been  advantageous  to  the  French  but 
otherwise  to  the  local  Icelandic  fishermen.  The  younger 
fishermen  of  Iceland  have  obtained  power  boats  for 
fishing  off  the  coast  and  they  look  upon  the  French  as 
poachers  upon  their  ancient  domain  and  rightfully.  The 
French  do  not  confine  themselves  to  their  own  territory 
but,  like  the  English  trawlers,  poach  extensively  under 
the  sheltering  folds  of  the  fog.  An  Icelandic  sheriff 
and  his  deputies  recently  rowed  out  to  an  English  traw- 
ler that  was  fishing  within  the  international  limit  to 
expostulate  with  the  captain.     They  were  politely  in- 


SEYMSFJORSR  189 

vited  on  board.  The  trawler  steamed  away  and  when 
these  innocent  men  came  to  their  senses  they  found 
themselves  in  a  back  alley  of  an  English  fishing  port. 
The  English  often  go  ashore  to  steal  sheep  and  commit 
other  depredations  upon  the  unprotected  farmers  of  the 
remote  districts.  This  has  been  going  on  for  centuries 
and  is  the  real  reason  why  the  Icelander  does  not  love 
the  English.  As  far  as  I  could  learn  the  French  do  not 
commit  these  acts  of  piracy  on  this  shore.  They  main- 
tain a  company  Trading  Post  and  compete  with  the 
local  shopmen  in  the  village  trade.  The  fact  that  the 
French  fishermen  are  Roman  Catholics  is  distasteful  to 
the  Icelanders,  who  are  Lutheran,  both  in  profession 
and  practice.  There  is  a  large  cemetery  near  the  mouth 
of  the  fiord  where  many  of  the  fisher  folk  of  France  for 
several  generations  have  found  a  rest  from  their  tire- 
some and  lonely  labor  in  the  fog.  How  dreary  it  looks ! 
How  different  from  the  places  where  their  relatives  of 
sunny  France  are  laid  away!  It  is  simply  a  little  en- 
closure on  the  soilless  hillside  with  a  rude  wood  slab 
upon  which  is  placed  a  brief  inscription  and  over  all 
is  hung  the  fog,  the  endless,  pitiless  fog  in  which  they 
met  their  death.  But  what  does  it  matter?  They  rest 
as  well  in  these  forgotten  mounds  as  the  greater  ones 
of  France  within  their  marble  mausoleum.  The 
Abbe  remains  during  the  fishing  season  and  has  charge 
of  a  private  hospital  as  well  as  an  oversight  of  the  spirit- 
ual affairs  of  his  people.  The  hospital  is  a  blessing. 
The  life  in  the  fog  is  lonesome,  dreary,  chilling,  with 
labor  at  the  hand  lines  day  and  night,  with  constant 
dread  of  being  run  down  by  steamers  prowling  through 
the  fog,  with  no  change  month  after  month,  unless  sick- 
ness gives  the  fisherman  a  furlough  in  the  hospital.  It 
is  one  long  monotonous  toil  which  induces  melancholia. 
Pierre  Loti  sensed  the  true  situation  and  caught  the 
local  color  in  his  Pecheur  df  Islande. 


1 9o  ICELAND 

A  great  fault  extends  across  the  fiord.  In  the  bed 
of  a  stream  which  flows  through  this  ravine,  the  writer 
found  some  large  and  exceptionally  valuable  zeolites. 
Iceland  is  famed  among  geologists  for  these  crystals. 
I  have  gathered  them  in  many  places  in  the  country, 
north,  east  and  west,  but  never  have  I  found  them  in 
such  beautiful  formations  and  of  so  fine  a  quality  as 
in  this  fiord.  I  also  obtained  excellent  specimens  of 
chalcedony  embedded  in  the  basalt  as  inclusions.  The 
greatest  find  was  a  fossil  tree,  of  the  Tertiary  Period, 
whose  diameter  was  five  inches.  During  the  process  of 
infiltration  it  was  filled  with  minute  crystals  of  zeolites 
and  masses  of  chalcedony.  After  supper  we  rowed 
across  the  fiord,  a  distance  of  two  miles  to  examine  the 
other  end  of  this  same  fault  and  to  see  the  fine  water- 
fall which  comes  down  from  the  snow  ravines  above. 
Here  the  rock  is  thickly  spattered  with  zeolites,  the 
meanest  of  which  would  be  a  good  find  in  other  locali- 
ties. One  thing  vexed  my  English  friend  sorely.  At 
a  depth  of  several  feet  in  a  basin  of  running  water  there 
is  a  cavity,  hemispherical  in  form,  with  a  diameter  of 
fourteen  inches,  entirely  lined  with  fine  amethysts.  He 
desired  to  take  it  back  to  England  and  I  left  him  gaz- 
ing at  it  earnestly  and  wondering  how  it  could  be  ob- 
tained. He  decided  to  leave  it  only  when  I  threatened 
to  return  to  the  Matador  with  the  boat  and  leave  him 
to  walk  around  the  head  of  the  fiord,  a  distance  of 
ten  miles. 

At  three  in  the  morning  we  put  to  sea,  bound  for 
Jan  May  en.  As  we  left  the  mouth  of  the  fiord  a  dense 
fog,  a  fog  so  thick  that  our  mast  head  light  shone  no 
brighter  than  a  glowworm  and  the  forms  of  the  forward 
watch  were  not  distinguishable  from  the  bridge.  The 
captain  miscalculated  his  position,  thinking  he  was  well 
outside  of  the  rookeries,  and  turned  the  yacht  north- 
ward into  the  tide  rips  and  cross-channels  that  charac- 


SEYMSFJ0R8R  191 

terize  this,  the  most  dangerous  portion  of  the  entire 
Icelandic  coast.  Whalebacks  and  skerries  abound  in 
these  waters  and  there  are  no  lighthouses,  no  bell  buoys 
no  fog  horns  to  warn  the  master.  He  must  rely  en- 
tirely upon  himself  and  take  long  chances.  In  cross- 
ing the  tide  current  between  two  of  the  small  islands 
the  Matador,  now  wallowed  deeply  in  the  trough  of 
the  wave  and  now  rode  airily  upon  its  angry  crest  of 
curling  and  running  water.  It  was  here  that  the 
Matador  and  her  little  group  of  scientists  nearly  ended 
their  ocean  voyages.  The  lookout  was  doubled.  We 
steamed  with  great  caution,  for  the  fog  was  thick.  Sud- 
denly the  breakers  boomed  all  around  us.  We  jumped 
to  the  crest  of  an  angry  wave,  growling  and  curling 
backwards  with  white  breakers.  Sideways  the  yacht 
slid  downward  into  the  yeasty  trough.  The  ragged 
ridge,  like  an  apparition  clothed  in  steel-gray  garments 
of  shifting  mists,  suddenly  loomed  dead  ahead  and 
under  the   prow. 

"Stop,"  rang  the  signal  in  the  engine  room. 

"Hard-a-port,"  was  the  sharp  order  to  the  helmsman. 
Sideways  we  sheered  from  those  yawning  and  serrated 
jaws,  which  have  crunched  manv  a  Viking  sea-horse 
in  former  days  and  many  a  fishing  smack  in  the  modern. 
Would  the  trough  of  the  sea  well  up  in  season  for  our 
keel  to  clear  that  ridge?  Our  lives  hung  upon  the 
favorable  and  instantaneous  answer  to  that  question 
which  was  in  the  mind  of  each  observer  of  that  horrid 
sight.  With  a  roar  as  of  impending  doom  the  waters 
returned  and  smashed  against  our  beam  so  fiercely  that 
everything  on  board  was  moved  which  was  not  actually 
nailed  down.  The  sleepers  were  tossed  from  their 
bunks,  there  was  a  clash  and  clatter  of  pots  in  the 
galley  and  a  sizzle  of  hot  steam  from  the  upset  ket- 
tles. The  faces  of  the  few  who  viewed  those  vawning, 
greedy  jaws  took  on  an  ashy  hue,   the  grayness  and 


192  ICELAND 

pallor  of  the  fog  itself.  We  recovered  our  breath  in  a 
long  sigh  of  relief  as  the  Matador  with  "full-speed- 
ahead"  slipped  through  the  foaming  waters  into  the 
steady  roll  of  the  deeper  sea.  That  was  an  experience 
which  those  who  participated  in  it  never  wish  to  repeat. 

Seydisfjordr  is  the  most  picturesque  of  the  eastern 
fiords.  I  have  entered  this  fiord  three  times,  once  in 
fog  and  twice  in  the  full  sunshine.  It  was  one  of  the 
earliest  places  visited  by  the  Vikings  and  has  ever  since 
been  the  resort  of  the  fishermen  on  account  of  its  ex- 
cellent harbor.  The  Iceland  cable  to  Denmark  by  the 
way  of  the  Faroe  Islands  lands  here.  In  old  times  it 
was  called  the  "Cooking  Fiord,"  (the  name  is  still  re- 
tained), because  of  the  ease  with  which  the  small  craft 
could  run  in  from  the  sea  to  prepare  their  meals.  The 
outer  end  is  marked  by  two  fine  mountains  rising  ab- 
ruptly from  the  water.  The  entire  fiord  is  a  recent 
glacial  valley  and  its  sides  are  marked  by  prominent 
raised  beaches. 

Going  ashore  and  wandering  along  the  single  street 
that  skirts  the  upper  end  of  the  fiord,  I  met  an  Icelander 
who  spoke  good  English  and  we  entered  into  a  pro- 
tracted conversation  about  the  United  States.  He  had 
formerly  lived  in  North  Dakota.  During  the  Ameri- 
can war  with  Spain  he  enlisted  to  serve  under  the  Amer- 
ican flag  and  was  ordered  to  the  Philippines,  where  he 
remained  till  he  had  completed  his  term  of  enlistment. 
When  he  received  his  discharge,  the  lure  of  the  father- 
land, the  indescribable  charm  of  the  ancient  fiords  was 
too  strong,  so  that,  like  many  of  his  race  who  have 
emigrated  to  our  Northwest,  he  returned  to  the  haunts 
of  his  youth.  His  frugality  in  America  had  vielded 
him  a  competence  for  the  remainder  of  his  life  in  Ice- 
Innd;  the  story  of  his  wanderings  in  distant  and  tropical 
lands  makes  him  as  welcome  among  the  fishermen  dur- 
ing the  long  winters  as  were  the  scalds  in  the  banqueting 


SEYSISFJORSR  193 

halls  of  Iceland's  ancient  lords. 

Aside  from  the  towering  mountains,  precipitous  and 
snow-crested,  and  the  beautiful  fiord  between,  the  fasci- 
nation of  the  valley  lies  in  the  upper  end  of  the  fiord 
with  its  half-cylindrical  basin  and  its  bisecting  river 
roaring  down  its  dozen  waterfalls.  From  the  exten- 
sive moorlands  of  VestdalsheiSt,  West-Dale-Heath, 
flows  a  voluminous  river,  which  enters  the  fiord  in  a 
regular  series  of  waterfalls  of  marvelous  beauty.  The 
falls  differ  from  each  other  in  height  of  plunge  and  in 
the  rock  formation  and  from  fall  to  fall  the  river  slides 
down  a  steep  gradient  in  an  angry  swirl  of  tossing  wa- 
ters. The  upper  fall  is  the  finest  in  the  series  and  has 
a  sheer  plunge  of  nearly  a  hundred  feet  over  a  perpen- 
dicular wall  of  lava  into  a  broad  basin.  On  either  side 
of  the  valley  numberless  and  turbulent  cascades  roll 
downward  from  the  melting  snows  of  the  tangled 
ridges  that  mark  the  border  of  the  great  moorland 
plateau.  The  valley  is  long  and  narrow  with  the  river 
in  the  very  center  and  the  river  system  may  be  likened 
to  the  skeleton  of  a  serpent  in  which  the  backbone  is  the 
main  stream  and  numerous  and  opposite  ribs  are  the 
tributaries.  There  is  a  point  near  the  wharf,  at  an 
elevation  of  five  hundred  feet  above  the  fiord,  which 
one  may  win  in  half  an  hour,  that  commands  a  view 
of  the  entire  valley.  Tf  there  is  no  fog  this  slight  climb 
is  richly  rewarded.  One  stands  upon  a  jutting  point  of 
lava  at  the  head  of  one  of  the  cascades,  views  the  main 
stream  with  its  terraces  and  every  silver  thread  that 
extends  from  the  snow  line  to  the  river.  At  his  feet 
is  the  fiord  with  its  fleet  of  fishing  smacks,  down  the 
fiord  is  the  open  sea,  the  shining  "swan-path"  of  the 
Sagas. 

Near  bv  is  a  strong  showing  of  copper  carbonate  in 
the  vesicula  lava.  All  of  the  tubes  and  cavities  are 
lined  with  this  beautiful  green  encrustation.     On  the 


i94  ICELAND 

opposite  side  of  the  mountain  there  is  a  similar  forma- 
tion so  that  it  is  possible  that  there  is  a  liberal  deposit 
of  this  useful  metal  in  this  mountain.  If  it  is  located 
it  will  be  easy  to  extract  it  as  there  is  an  abundance  of 
waterpower  within  easy  access  for  mechanical  and  elec- 
trolytical  purposes. 

One  afternoon  when  the  fog  hung  heavily  upon  fiord 
and  mountain,  with  four  of  my  Matador  companions 
I  set  out  to  examine  a  glacial  moraine  which  hangs 
upon  the  side  of  Biholsfjall,  upon  which  I  had  looked 
with  longing  eye  through  a  telescope  the  previous  sum- 
mer. Upward  we  climbed  and  when  at  an  elevation 
of  only  a  hundred  feet  above  the  fiord,  the  entire  val- 
ley, all  its  buildings,  the  fiord  and  its  shipping  disap- 
peared from  view  as  if  by  enchantment.  Many  sounds 
came  up  through  the  fog  in  a  strange  jumble  of  dis- 
cordant notes;  a  Norwegian  tramp  steamer  was  stow- 
ing a  cargo  of  clip  fish,  hammers  clanged  in  the  little 
machine  shop  at  our  feet,  so  near  that  we  could  have 
tossed  a  stone  upon  its  roof  and  the  clack-clack-clack 
of  a  pony's  hoofs  pacing  the  highway  in  haste  to  take 
its  rider  into  a  refuge  from  the  storm.  The  rain  came 
down  in  earnest  but  there  was  no  wind.  This  was  a 
strange  condition  under  which  to  climb  a  mountain, 
whose  slopes  are  deeply  scored  with  crossing  gullies, 
where  patches  of  moorland  stretch  between  ridges  of 
talus  and  one  may  easily  lose  his  way,  but  we  desired 
the  experience  and  difficult  as  was  the  climb  it  was  well 
worth  all  the  effort.  If  we  separated  from  each  other 
three  rods  we  were  lost  to  view.  It  was  uncanny,  this 
wandering  among  the  gullies  and  carrying  on  a  conver- 
sation with  moving  and  invisible  beings,  almost  ghostly. 
The  fog,  like  fleecy  blankets,  hung  around  and  rolled 
over  us  in  wisps  like  broad  bands  of  cotton,  so  that  we 
literally  stretched  and  tore  it  as  we  climbed  through 
it.    Two  of  my  companions  clung  to  the  brook,  where 


SEYSISFJORSR  195 

plant  life  was  more  vigorous,  and  it  was  a  wise  precau- 
tion if  one  did  not  know  the  direction  of  the  ravines  or 
the  slope  of  the  moorland.  With  the  other  two  I 
turned  toward  the  southwest  and  we  were  guided  by 
the  number  of  the  ravines  we  crossed  and  the  roar  of 
a  waterfall  on  the  escarpment.  We  traversed  a  boggy 
area  and  finally  reached  the  extensive  moraine  that  was 
formerly  pushed  over  the  cliffs  by  the  moving  ice  and  is 
now  being  worked  by  the  winter  frosts  and  the  deluge 
of  water  descending  during  the  summer  from  the  melt- 
ing snows  on  the  heights  above.  By  the  aneroid  we 
had  climbed  to  an  elevation  of  2,000  feet  above  the 
fiord.  Here  we  turned  and  descended  by  the  steep 
stairway  of  columnar  basalt  to  the  valley,  not  once  hav- 
ing been  out  of  the  thick  fog.  Our  tramp  yielded  consid- 
erable profit  in  the  examination  of  the  debris  on  the 
mountain  side  where  we  found  excellent  specimens  of 
water-worn  liparite,  that  the  glacier  had  transported 
from  the  interior  in  former  days.  We  also  found  fine 
specimens  of  chalcedony  geods.  These  were  enclosed 
in  the  pre-glacial  lava,  but  the  frost  action  has  split  the 
rock  and  the  geods  are  easily  removed.  They  are  about 
the  size  of  goose  eggs.  As  we  stumbled  through  the 
darkness  of  the  fog,  unable  to  choose  our  way  for  more 
than  a  rod  at  a  time,  there  came  to  my  mind  that  well 
known  passage  in  Isaiah, — 

"I  will  bring  the  blind  by  a  way  that  they  know  not; 
I  will  lead  them  in  paths  that  they  have  not  known;  I 
will  make  '  darkness  light  before  them,  and  crooked 
things  straight." 

During  one  trip  up  the  east  coast  from  Seyfiisfjordr 
to  the  Arctic  Circle  we  enjoyed  perfect  sunshine,  a  rare 
phenomenon  and  worth  a  transatlantic  voyage  to  wit- 
ness it.  I  know  of  no  grander  scenery  of  sea,  fiord, 
and  mountain  than  this  east  coast.  As  one  enters  the 
broad  bay  of  Vopnafjordr,  under  clear  weather  condi- 


196  ICELAND 

tions,  the  distant  glacier  of  Vatna  Jokull  dazzles  the 
eye  as  the  sun  shines  upon  its  melting  surface  and  is 
reflected  with  the  luster  of  a  mirror.  The  extreme  bar- 
renness of  mountain  and  shore  belies  the  verdure  of  the 
quiet  vales  between  the  scattered  ridges.  The  moun- 
tains rise  directly  from  the  sea  to  a  great  height  and  the 
scorched  lava,  the  sepia-colored  liparite,  the  ashes  and 
waterfalls  yield  wonderful  shades  of  color.  Within  the 
shadows  of  the  cliffs  the  tiny  fishing  craft  like  great 
gulls  quietly  await  their  prey. 

On  another  trip  over  this  same  course,  the  fog  closed 
in  upon  us  suddenly  and  unexpectedly.  At  first  there  was 
a  haze,  a  sun-streaked  mist  low  on  the  water, — a  mo- 
ment, and  mountain,  shore  and  sea  were  closed  to  view. 
We  put  further  out  to  sea  to  avoid  the  coast  fog  but  the 
wind   freshened   and  soon   a   gale  was  blowing.     We 
were  off  Langaness,   Long   Cape,   and  almost  on   the 
Arctic   Circle.      Sea   and  wind  bore   down  so  heavily 
upon  the  little  Matador  that  we  were  obliged  to  seek 
the  protection  of  the  cape,  not  daring  to  round  it  in 
the  storm,  and  we  cast  anchor  in  Eidisvik,  Creek-Isth- 
mus.     As  suddenly   as  the   fog  had   appeared   a    few 
hours  before,  so  now  the  Arctic  Sea  sprang  into  action 
and  bore  down  upon  the  cape  with  great  violence.    We 
reached    anchorage   none   too   soon   and   there   we    re- 
mained with  straining  cables  for  forty-eight  hours  while 
the  full  fury  of  the  blast  blew  itself  to  pieces.     The 
wind  came  out  of  the  north  and  it  was  cold,  the  waves 
ran  high  upon  the  bluffs  of  the  Ness  and  all  the  sea 
fowl  sought  the  shelter  of   its  crevices.      Out  at  sea 
a  mere  speck  rose  and  fell  upon  the  white-capped  waves. 
With  time  it  grew  larger  and  we  preceived  that  it  was  a 
belated    dory     retreating    from    the    storm.      It    came 
straight  under  our  stern  and  we  noted  that  it  was  heav- 
ily laden  with  cod  and  rode  deeply  in  the  water.    Four 
red  capped  Faroese  manned  its  long  oars  and  under 


SEYSISFJORSR  197 

less  experienced  oarsmen  the  boat  would  surely  have 
swamped.  If  one  wishes  to  observe  the  skill  and  power 
of  men  at  the  oars,  let  him  not  attend  a  college  boat 
race  on  a  quiet  inland  river,  rather  let  him  behold  the 
hardy  sons  of  the  Faroe  Islands,  inured  from  childhood 
to  the  stormy  waters  of  the  north,  bring  their  heavily 
laden  boat  out  of  the  tempestuous  Arctic  Sea  and  beach 
it  in  safetly  on  a  stony  shore. 

I  think  that  this  is  the  most  dreary  spot  in  all  Iceland. 
It  is  as  lonesome  and  forbidding  as  the  uninhabited  and 
bleak  coast  of  Jan  May  en  four  hundred  miles  to  the 
north.  A  few  rods  from  the  shore  there  is  a  small  la- 
goon and  on  the  far  side  a  few  small  houses,  three  I 
believe.  The  people  live  by  fishing  for  there  is  scarcely 
enough  grass  for  the  few  sheep  and  four  cows  that 
graze  at  the  margin  of  the  bird-infested  lagoon.  The 
cliffs  and  mountains  that  tower  above  the  lagoon  must 
be  beautiful  in  sunshine,  but  it  is  otherwise  in  storm, 
and  fog  and  Arctic  storms  prevail  most  of  the  time. 

In  a  torrent  of  rain  and  with  the  wind  blowing  as 
only  the  unrestricted  winds  of  the  Polar  Ocean  can 
blow,  five  of  us  ventured  to  lower  a  boat  and  row 
ashore  to  beach  it  where  we  had  observed  that  the  Fa- 
roese  had  done  the  same  the  previous  night.  The  entire 
beach  is  littered  with  drift  wood  consisting  of  bits  of 
bark,  branches  and  heavy  timber.  All  of  the  material 
that  I  examined  proved  to  be  larch.  A  few  trees  bore 
the  marks  of  the  axe,  but  most  of  them  had  been  torn 
up  by  the  roots  in  some  great  river  freshet  and  had 
been  swept  out  to  sea,  probably  from  the  great  rivers 
of  Siberia,  the  Lena,  Obi,  Kolyma  and  Yenisei.  As  I 
write  I  have  before  me  a  thick  piece  of  bark  from  a 
Siberian  larch  that  I  picked  up  on  this  shore.  What  a 
voyage  it  has  made !  Whence  came  it  and  how  long 
was  its  unlogged  voyage?  It  is  not  in  imagination  that 
we  scan  its  record.     Though  not  in  figures  stating  lati- 


i98  ICELAND 

tudes  and  longitudes  and  not  in  characters  of  ink,  yet 
its  great  Polar  voyage  is  clearly  revealed  to  him  who 
knows  the  currents  of  the  north,  the  prevailing  winds 
and  the  drift  of  the  ice  floes.  This  bit  of  bark  passed 
out  to  sea  during  the  spring  floods  that  make  such  havoc 
in  the  Siberian  forests;  it  became  embedded  in  the  ice, 
as  did  Nansen's  Fram.  Slowly  it  drifted  with  the 
pack,  now  backwards  under  the  pressure  of  the  wind, 
now  lifted  in  a  great  pressure  ridge  as  two  opposing 
packs  met;  now  under  the  influence  of  wind  and  cur- 
rent it  made  progress  and,  again  like  the  Fram,  was 
liberated  from  the  ice  west  of  Spitzbergen  and  drifted 
southward  to  find  lodgement  on  this  bleak  cape.  Fifty 
miles  away,  on  Raudagnupa,  Red-Peak,  in  1905  was 
picked  up  the  Bryant-Melville  cask,  which  had  been 
placed  on  the  pack  ice  north  of  Point  Barrow  in  1899. 
The  elapsed  time  from  the  placing  of  this  cask  on  the 
ice  by  Captain  D.  N.  Tilton  of  the  American  whaler, 
Alexander,  to  the  date  of  its  discovery  by  the  Icelandic 
farmer,  Vigfus  Benidiktsson,  was  five  years,  eight 
months  and  fourteen  days.  We  have  not  the  space  in 
which  to  discuss  the  Great  Polar  Current  but  we  can 
assert  that  this  piece  of  larch  bark,  yes,  and  the  thou- 
sands of  larch  trees,  that  come  to  land  on  the  north 
coast  of  Iceland  and  in  Driftwood  Bay  in  Jan  Mayen, 
have  journeyed  over  or  near  the  North  Pole.  The 
wood  is  a  boon  to  the  Icelanders  as  it  is  used  for  fuel 
and  in  the  construction  of  their  houses. 

On  the  beach  I  found  a  mass  of  spermacetti  weigh- 
ing over  two  hundred  pounds  that  had  been  cast  up  by 
the  sea.  I  also  gathered  many  pumice  fragments,  worn 
by  abrasion  into  balls  and  egg-shaped  masses.  The 
character  of  this  pumice  shows  that  it  came  from  the 
great  eruption  of  Askja,  Bowl,  one  hundred  and  twenty- 
five  miles  away.  It  was  probably  blown  into  the  east- 
ern Jokullsd,    Ice-Mountain-River,   floated  out  to  tea 


SEYSISFJORSR  199 

and  was  then  driven  north  by  wind  and  current  to  this 
shore.  Among  all  the  tlotsom  on  this  stormy  shore  the 
strangest  was  a  find  of  tropical  plants  that  had  drifted 
with  the  Gulf  Stream  past  the  north  of  Norway,  thence 
eastward  to  Nova  Zcmbla,  then  north  and  west  towards 
Franz  Josef  Land  and  then  west  towards  Spitzbergen 
where  it  was  liberated  and  came  down  with  the  Polar 
drift  from  the  Siberian  forests  as  above  mentioned. 
Here  the  Tropics  and  the  Arctic  meet  on  the  Arctic 
Circle. 

We  shot  many  birds  on  the  shore  for  museum  speci- 
mens and  enough  for  an  ample  feast  for  our  entire 
party.  We  came  on  board  again  after  several  hours  of 
tramping  in  the  driving  rain  and  in  a  temperature  close 
to  the  freezing  point.  It  was  a  fine  experience  and  we 
ran  no  risk  save  in  beaching  and  launching  of  our  little 
boat.  When  we  had  changed  our  clothing  and  had 
partaken  of  a  hot  meal  we  felt  amply  repaid  for  the 
exertion  as  the  examination  of  the  drift  material  on 
the  shore  was  well  worth  while. 

I  quote  from  my  journal  of  191 1. 

"It  is  midnight.  The  wind  is  blowing  a  full  gale 
which  is  periodically  accented  by  gusts  of  higher  veloc- 
ity. The  Matador  is  straining  at  her  cable  in  an  alarm- 
ing manner.  The  rigging  creaks  and  groans  as  the 
boat  rolls  in  the  blast.  The  sea  is  running  high,  the 
rain  descends  in  torrents  and  the  spray  from  the  crests 
of  the  waves  is  driving  over  us  in  sheets  and  slashes 
against  the  windows  of  the  tiny  deck  cabin.  On  the 
shore,  where  we  landed  this  noon  the  breakers  are  roll- 
ing heavily  and  we  can  hear  the  rumble  and  grinding 
of  the  rocks  as  the  water  rushes  back  into  the  sea.  If 
our  cable  parts  we  must  be  driven  onto  the  shore.  The 
Baron*  has  come  on  deck  to  bid  me  good  night. 

*This  was  Baron  Axel  Klinckowstrom,  of  Stockholm,  a  member  of 
our  scientific  corps. 


200  ICELAND 

"It  is  rough  outside  the  Ness  tonight,  judging  by 
what  we  are  getting  in  here,"  I  remarked. 

"We  may  be  thankful  that  we  are  snug  here  and  not 
being  driven  before  the  gale  out  there,"  he  replied. 
"Many  a  ship  has  gone  down  to  Davy  Jones'  Locker 
off  that  point  in  just  such  weather  as  this.  Do  you 
known  that  the  Fridtjof  lies  at  the  bottom  of  the  Ness?" 

"What  of  the  Fridtjof,  Baron?" 

"She  was  the  vessel  in  which  I  went  to  the  Antarctic 
in  1903  to  resuce  Nordenskiold.  He  had  been  rescued 
by  the  Argentine  Frigate,  Urugua,  a  few  days  before 
our  arrival  and  we  got  back  to  Stockholm  in  April 
1904.  The  Fridtjof  took  us  through  the  Antarctic  ice 
pack  and  brought  us  safely  home  and  now  she  lies  out 
there  on  those  submarine  lava  crags.  In  spite  of  the 
roughness  of  our  present  position,  we  may  well  be 
thankful  that  the  Matador  has  her  anchor  well  gripped 
to  the  bottom  of  this  little  shelter.     Good  night." 

On  our  first  visit  to  the  east  coast  of  Iceland  we 
left  Vopnafjbrdr  early  in  the  morning,  with  beautiful 
weather  and  a  placid  sea.  The  water  was  unrippled 
save  where  the  guillemots  and  puffins  dived  as  the 
steamer  approached.  It  was  so  warm  that  we  lounged 
on  the  deck  under  an  awning  and  thoroughly  enjoyed 
the  novelty  of  the  first  crossing  of  the  Arctic  Circle. 
There  was  nothing  to  suggest  the  severity  of  the  north 
in  this  warm  sunshine  with  no  wind  and  certainly  no 
ice.  Langaness  loomed  high  on  our  port  and  over  the 
black  bluffs  countless  birds  were  hovering  in  a  quer- 
ulous mood.  How  different  was  this  experience  from 
that  of  a  year  later  in  the  same  locality  when  the 
Matador  was  struggling  to  reach  Jan  May  en! 

In  the  afternoon  we  anchored  in  the  open  waters  off 
Husavik  and  rowed  ashore  for  a  few  enjoyable  hours 
while  the  Botnia  was  taking  on  board  bundles  of  wool 
and  bales  of  fish.    Husavik,  House-by-the-Creek,  is  the 


SEYfclSFJORSR  201 

place  where  the  first  known  house  in  Iceland  was  built. 
Here  it  was  that  Gardar,  the  Swede,  who  first  circum- 
navigated Iceland  in  864,  spent  the  winter.  The  vil- 
lage is  a  thriving  trading  station,  the  outlet  for  large 
quantities  of  wool  and  fish,  skins  and  feathers  collected 
here  from  a  wide  region.  Pack  trains  arrive  daily  in 
the  summer  from  the  interior  and  the  ponies,  laden  with 
big  sacks,  present  a  pretty  picture  as  they  wind  down 
the  mountain  side  into  the  village.  The  departure  of 
the  pack  train  is  even  more  picturesque,  as  the  ponies 
are  buried  under  bundles  of  every  conceivable  shape; 
provisions,  mostly  rye,  sugar  and  coffee,  farming  tools, 
furniture  and  lumber,  the  latter  fastened  by  one  end 
to  the  saddle  while  the  other  end  drags  on  the  ground. 
The  Icelandic  farmer  is  a  past  master  in  the  art  of 
loading  a  pony.  In  former  days  large  quantities  of 
refined  sulfur  from  the  Myvatn  region  were  taken  to 
this  port  on  the  backs  of  the  ponies.  There  remain 
thousands  of  tons  of  good  sulfur  for  the  coming  of 
capital  and  energy  backed  with  business  acumen. 

Near  Husavik  on  the  shore  of  Skdlfandi  Bay,  Tremb- 
ling, there  is  a  geological  formation  unique  in  Iceland. 
It  is  a  small  area  of  old  Pliocene  crag,  containing  fossil 
shells,  mostly  the  Venus  Icelandica,  embedded  in  clay, 
sand  and  marl.  Some  of  the  shells  are  filled  with 
calcarious  crystals.  *The  Pliocene  is  the  most  recent 
portion  of  the  Tertiary  Age}  geologically  speaking,  and 
in  a  country  so  completely  volcanic  as  is  Iceland,  this 
corner  is  of  great  interest  to  geologists  as  it  helps  to 
fix  the  age  of  the  basalts  relatively.  This  Pliocene  sec- 
tion is  practically  the  only  section  found  in  the  country, 
though  mention  has  been  made  above  of  a  Tertiary  tree 
fossil  which  I  found  in  Faskrudsfjordr.  There  is  some 
lignite  in  this  deposit  and  a  thorough  examination  of 

*About  seventy-five  per  cent,  of  the   molluscs  that   lived  at   this 
period  of  the  world's  history  are  represented  by  living  species  to-day. 


202  ICELAND 

the  marls  will  yield  further  data  for  an  interesting  dis- 
cussion. Lignite  has  been  found  in  a  few  other  portions 
of  the  country.  On  the  slender  strength  of  this  evi- 
dence, during  the  summer  of  19 10  two  Englishmen  who 
presented  engraved  cards  as  civil  and  mining  engineers, 
coal  experts  and  a  few  other  specialties,  traversed  a 
large  portion  of  Iceland  looking  for  a  coal  deposit.  I 
met  them  on  three  different  occasions  and  they  were 
still  looking  for  coal.  There  is  no  better  country  in  the 
world  in  which  to  "look"  for  coal  than  Iceland  for 
one  may  transmit  this  pastime  to  his  children  with  no 
fear  that  his  offspring  will  ever  lack  an  occupation.  The 
fierce  volcanic  fires  that  have  raged  in  the  bowels  of  this 
country  and  seared  and  blistered  its  surface  would  have 
effectually  destroyed  this  substance  had  it  ever  existed. 
One  might  as  well  search  for  tinsel  in  a  furnace  as  for 
coal  in  Iceland. 

We  visited  the  new  church  to  examine  the  fine  old 
altar  piece,  painted  on  wood  over  three  hundred  years 
ago.  It  is  in  an  excellent  state  of  preservation  and  the 
people  are  justly  proud  of  this  relic.  Beside  the  road 
in  front  of  the  church  there  is  an  alms  box  on  a  post. 
Beside  it  hangs  the  key  on  a  nail.  There  is  a  request 
in  English,  German,  French  and  Icelandic  for  contribu- 
tions for  the  benefit  of  the  widows  and  orphans  of  those 
who  have  lost  their  lives  at  sea.  We  wondered  if  an 
alms  box  with  its  key  in  a  similar  position  would  be  a 
profitable  arrangement  for  charity  in  America  or  in  any 
other  country  of  Europe.  This  is  another  evidence  of 
the  honesty  and  integrity  of  the  native. 

There  came  on  board  the  Botnia  at  Husavik  three 
gentlemen  with  whom  I  was  to  associate  a  good  deal 
during  the  coming  year  on  the  Matador,  Walter  Friede- 
berg,  F.  R.  G.  S.,  of  Berlin,  Baron  Axle  Klinckowstrom 
and  his  son  Harald  of  Stockholm,  Sweden.  They  were 
bound  for  Myvatn  to  collect  birds  for  the  Museums 


SEY3ISFJORSR  203 

of  Berlin  and  Upsala.  The  Baron  proved  to  be  a 
rare  entertainer,  he  speaks  several  languages  with  flu- 
ency, he  is  a  man  of  profound  learning,  a  scientist  with 
several  volumes  in  Swedish  and  German  to  the  credit 
of  his  versatile  pen.  He  has  travelled  from  Spitzbergen 
to  the  Antartic,  associated  with  some  of  the  best  known 
explorers  and  scientists.  He  had  many  an  anecdote 
with  which  to  entertain  the  company. 

Late  in  the  evening  we  steamed  across  the  bay 
towards  Akureyri,  Corn-Land.  At  midnight  we  passed 
close  to  the  coast  beyond  Flatey,  Flat-Island,  and  the 
atmosphere  was  so  clear  that  we  had  perfect  views  of 
the  old  craters  along  the  shore.  There  are  four  of 
them  and  their  rims  coincide.  The  half  of  the  craters 
next  to  the  ocean  has  been  blown  out  so  that  they  pre- 
sent the  appearance  of  four  huge  clam  shells  standing 
on  edge  with  the  concave  sides  towards  the  observer. 
The  interiors  are  scorched  and  blistered  and  give  a  sug- 
gestion of  the  fierce  fires  that  once  raged  within  these 
walls.  We  passed  up  the  Eyjafordr,  Island-Fiord,  the 
longest  and  finest  of  the  many  fiords  in  Iceland,  and  at 
five  in  the  morning,  long  ere  the  town  awoke,  we  tied  up 
to  the  little  wharf  in  Akureyri.  Our  sea  journey  was  at 
an  end.  Our  guide  and  ponies  having  arrived  from 
Reykjavik  the  night  before,  we  left  the  comfortable 
steamer  without  regret  to  spend  a  month  with  the  ponies, 
to  explore  new  regions,  to  enjoy  the  meadows,  moors 
and  mountains  of  a  marvellous  land. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

MyVATN 

"The  lands  are  there  sun-gilded  at  the  hour 
When  other  lands  are  silvered  by  the  moon, — 

The  midnight  hour,  when  down  the  sun  doth  pour 
A  blaze  of  light,  as  elsewhere  at  the  noon." 

— Anon. 

OLAFUR  EYVINDSSON  had  crossed  the 
country  from  Reykjavik  by  way  of  the  west- 
ern dales  with  a  train  of  eight  ponies.  The 
packing  boxes,  saddles  and  provisions  had 
been  forwarded  by  the  coast  steamer,  so  that  when  we 
landed  from  the  Botnia,  thanks  to  the  faithfulness  ot 
Helgi  Zoega,  everything  was  in  readiness  for  our  de- 
parture. At  one  in  the  afternoon  we  entered  a  launch 
and  crossed  the  broad  Eyjarfjordr.  On  the  beach  we 
found  a  farmer  with  ponies  saddled  and  waiting  for 
our  departure  to  Myvatn,  Midge-Lake.  Olafur  hau 
taken  the  precaution  to  drive  the  ponies  around  the 
upper  end  of  the  fiord  and  across  the  marshes  at  low 
tide  the  previous  evening  for  pasturage  as  grass  is 
scarce  in  Akureyri  and  the  charges  are  excessive. 

We  left  the  bulk  of  our  provisions  at  the  house  of 
the  farmer,  since  we  would  not  require  them  in  the  re- 
gion we  were  about  to  visit  and  it  was  necessary  to 
return  to  Akureyri  to  set  out  upon  our  long  journey 
across  the  country.  We  ascended  the  bluff  and  turned 
northwards  to  climb  the  mountain  along  a  diagonal. 

Once  more  in  the  saddle,  with  the  length  of  the  sum- 
mer and  the  width  of  Iceland  between  us  and  the  steamer 
that  would  bear  us  from  Reykjavik  to  Denmark.  Our 
trip  up  the  east  coast  and  the  stops  at  the  trading  posts 
had  been  pleasant  and  full  of  interest  but  the  real  work, 
and  the  enjoyment  that  is  born  of  it,  was  before  us.     It 

204 


Gofiafoss,  the  Icelandic  Niagara,  on  the  Skjalfand- 

afljot. 


Island  Craters  in  the  Myvatn   from   SkutustaSir. 


MyVATN  205 

was  with  a  spirit  of  exultation  that  we  turned  the  ponies 
into  the  narrow  trail  that  winds  up  the  mountain  side 
and,  after  a  year  of  absence,  felt  the  motion  of  our  little 
steeds.  Step  by  step  we  climbed  the  gradient;  little  by 
little  the  fiord  below  narrowed  and  lengthened;  the 
sounds  of  the  fishermen  and  the  bustle  of  the  shipping 
diminished  and  finally  disappeared  altogether.  The 
mountain  rose  in  a  wild  tumble  of  treeless  ridges  and 
ice-crowned  escarpments,  scored  with  shining  glaciers 
and  coursed  by  numberless  waterfalls  and  trickling  rivu- 
lets that  resolved  the  great  silence  into  a  musical  cadence. 
We  "knew  the  land  of  smiling  face,"  we  understood 
from  experience  that  there  were  bridgeless  and  trouble- 
some rivers  to  cross,  morasses  to  negotiate  or  in  which 
to  founder,  smoking  solfataras  and  trackless  wastes  of 
lava,  deserts  of  sand  and  glacial  moraines  to  cross  be- 
tween the  northern  and  southern  coasts.  But  the  spell 
of  Viking  Land  was  upon  us  and  we  realized  that  for 
the  summer  it  was  all  our  own, — free  to  anyone  who 
would  take  the  trouble  to  explore, — to  roam  when  and 
where  we  willed,  unfettered  by  time  tables,  with  no 
porters,  cabbies  nor  waiters  to  break  the  spell,  no  fences 
to  obstruct,  no  "trespass  forbidden"  to  turn  us  aside,  no 
man  to  say  us  nay.  The  roar  of  the  locomotive  and  the 
purr  of  the  motor  had  been  left  far  behind  as  also  the 
jostling  of  ubiquitous  tourists  with  their  satellites  the 
guides.  A  day  of  delight  in  the  saddle  was  to  be  fol- 
lowed each  day  by  a  better  one;  an  evening  welcome  at  a 
humble  farm  and  a  heartfelt  God-speed  in  the  morning. 
Our  only  limitation,  the  ponies.  These  promised  well 
at  the  start.  They  had  been  carefully  chosen  and  at 
the  end  of  the  long  and  difficult  journey  proved  their 
worth. 

The  ascent  of  Vadlaheifii,  Wade-Heath,  in  sunshine 
is  one  of  the  best  rides  in  Iceland.  The  long  fiord 
opens  out  to  the  Arctic  Ocean  at  our  feet  and  the  dis- 


206  ICELAND 

tant  Jokulls  rise  into  prominence  with  diadems  of  ice 
upon  their  brows.  The  pastures  on  the  lower  slopes 
stud  the  valley  with  gems  of  emerald.  Nearing  the 
summit  we  came  upon  the  unmelted  snows  of  winter, 
which  were  crusted  sufficiently  to  support  the  horses. 
Here  we  found  a  company  of  men  laboriously  drag- 
ging telephone  poles  to  the  summit  to  repair  the  dam- 
age of  the  winter  storms.  At  an  elevation  of  2,300 
feet  above  the  fiord  we  reached  a  flat  moorland  which 
slopes  gently,  at  first,  towards  the  east.  We  paused  to 
bait  the  ponies  and  stretched  ourselves  at  length  on  a 
mound  of  Arctic  flowers  and  gazed  across  the  valley 
to  the  Vindheima  Jokull,  Home  of  the  Winds. 

We  followed  a  zigzag  line  of  cairns  down  towards 
the  valley  of  the  Fnjoskd,  Touch-Wood-River.  The 
view  of  this  valley  with  the  broad,  swift  river  flowing 
in  a  long  series  of  S-curves,  the  enormous  mounds  of 
volcanic  ash  fantastically  sculptured  by  the  wind,  the 
little  farm  by  the  river  where  we  refreshed  ourselves 
with  real  cream  and  the  forest  of  diminutive  birch  on 
the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  these  will  never  be  forgot- 
ten. To  one  accustomed  to  seeing  the  joyous  meadows 
of  Iceland  in  undulating  reaches  of  emerald  green 
sprinkled  with  brilliant  flowers,  the  tangled  heaths  of 
the  uplands  where  roam  uncounted  sheep  and  half-wild 
ponies  and  the  barren  slopes  of  the  foot  hills  of  the  vol- 
canic ranges,  as  viewed  from  any  descending  trail, — this 
prospect  is  extremely  pleasing.  It  must  be  remembered 
that  there  are  no  real  forests  in  Iceland.  Henderson, 
writing  in  18 17,  says, — 

"About  a  hundred  years  ago  the  valley  exhibited  one 
of  the  finest  forests  in  Iceland,  but  now  there  is  not  a 
single  tree  to  be  seen, — such  has  been  the  havoc  made 
by  the  inclemency  of  the  seasons  and  the  improvident 
conduct  of  the  inhabitants.  The  remains  of  this  forest 
are  still  visible  on  the  east  side  of  the  river,  which  di- 


MyVATN  207 

vides  the  valley,  in  the  numerous  stumps  of  birch  trees 
which  present  themselves,  some  of  which  exceed  two 
feet  in  diameter." 

That  there  were  large  forests  in  the  ancient  days  we 
have  plenty  of  evidence  in  the  numerous  references  in 
the  Sagas.     In  the  thirty-sixth  chapter  of  Burnt  Nidi 

we  read : — 

"There  was  a  man  named  Swart,  Bergthora's  house- 
carle.  Now  Bergthora  told  him  that  he  must  go  up 
into  Redslip  and  hew  wood;  I  will  get  men  to  draw 
home  the  wood." 

There  is  further  evidence  that  the  wood  was  large 
enough  so  that  it  was  hewn  for  ship-building  and  for 
houses.  Since  Henderson's  day,  the  Fnjoskd  forest  has 
sprouted  and  grown  to  a  considerable  size.  The  trees 
are  four  to  eight  feet  high  and  mostly  of  birch.  There 
are  several  of  these  birch  forests  in  Iceland  and  the 
government  not  only  protects  them  but  provides  a 
trained  forester  to  study  the  local  problems  of  foresta- 
tion.  Though  not  large  enough  for  timber  yet  the  birch 
has  a  definite  value  for  the  people.  The  branches  and 
brush  are  used  to  lay  between  the  layers  of  fuel  while 
drying  and  the  larger  pieces  are  used  to  make  plaiting  on 
the  roofs  over  which  turf  is  laid.  The  tough  birch  also 
lends  itself  well  to  the  making  of  rakes  and  other  im- 
plements upon  the  farm. 

Until  quite  recently  the  passage  of  the  Fnjoskd 
was  most  difficult  and  we  were  agreeably  surprised  to 
find  a  reinforced  concrete  bridge  spanning  the  flood. 
What  a  task  was  its  construction  !  The  cement  and  steel 
had  to  be  transported  over  the  mountain  by  the  ponies 
from  Akureyri  but  a  great  mistake  was  made  in  its 
width.  It  is  suitable  for  horseback  crossing  but  will 
not  permit  the  passage  of  even  a  two-wheel  cart  of  short 
axle,  such  as  is  being  introduced  upon  some  of  the  farms. 
The  building  of  these  bridges  is  doing  much  to  bring  the 


208  ICELAND 

remote  farms  into  closer  relationship. 

Crossing  a  waste  of  wind-driven  sand  and  ashes  we 
arrived  at  the  parsonage  of  Hals,  Ridge,  a  farm  of 
great  antiquity.  For  many  centuries  it  has  been  the 
resting  place  for  travellers  across  the  mountains  from 
Akureyri  to  the  east.  Even  in  Saga  days,  when  farers 
from  over  the  seas  drew  up  their  ships  in  the  fiord  for 
the  winter  and  journeyed  eastward  for  "guesting"  they 
made  use  of  this  place  for  refreshment.  We  did  not 
call  as  we  hoped  to  reach  another  farm  at  the  far  end 
of  the  lake  by  evening. 

The  descent  of  the  ridge  into  the  upper  end  of  the 
valley  is  pleasing  because  of  the  varied  scenery.  At 
the  foot  of  the  hill  we  crossed  a  bog  and  forded  a  small 
stream;  the  bog  was  difficult  on  account  of  recent  rain 
and  the  ponies  moved  with  greatest  caution.  When  we 
reached  solid  ground  we  halted  to  graze  the  ponies  and 
to  examine  the  rich  flora  of  the  locality.  As  we  mounted 
a  party  of  Englishmen  whirled  by  at  a  furious  gallop. 
This  gave  us  some  concern  as  we  knew  that  the  farm 
towards  which  we  were  making  our  way  had  accommo- 
dations for  only  one  party  and  it  looked  as  if  they  in- 
tended to  be  the  party.  We  learned  later  that  they 
turned  towards  the  north  in  search  of  a  coal  deposit, 
which  it  is  needless  to  say  they  did  not  find. 

Ljosavatnsskard,  Lake-of-Light-Pass,  is  a  narrow 
valley,  a  watershed.  The  stream  that  tumbles  down 
the  gorge  from  the  mountains  divides  into  two  arms, 
one  flows  eastward  into  the  lake  and  the  other  west- 
ward into  the  Fnjoskd.  The  ride  down  towards  the 
lake  is  one  continual  crossing  of  small  streams  that  rush 
down  the  snow  gullies.  From  the  pass  to  the  margin  of 
the  lake  we  crossed,  by  actual  count,  fifty-three  of  these 
white  streams  during  a  ride  of  two  hours. 

Ljosavatn,  Lake-of-Light,  will  ever  remain  one  of 
the    brightest   memory    pictures   of   Icelandic    scenery. 


MyVATN  209 

The  lake  is  long  and  narrow,  the  mountains  descend 
abruptly  on  either  side.  The  tumbling  cascades,  the 
many  sheep  upon  the  green  ridges  between  the  cataracts, 
the  cattle  grazing  eye-deep  in  the  lush  grass  along  the 
shore,  the  numerous  water  fowl,  where  many  a 

"Stately  drake,  led  forth  his  fleet  upon  the  lake," 

the  spectrum  colors  in  the  lava  cliffs,  the  bands  of  cloud 
that  hang  perpetually  over  the  narrow  notch, — with 
clouds,  colors,  waterfalls  and  crags  mirrored  in  the 
burnished  surface, — formed  a  picture  framed  in  the 
dark  outlines  of  the  mountains  that  caused  us  to  dis- 
mount and  for  an  hour  held  our  close  attention. 

At  evening  we  reached  the  Djupd,  Deep-River,  well 
named.  This  stream  has  carved  a  gorge  through  a  mass 
of  old  craters  and  heaps  of  volcanic  ash.  Under  the 
influence  of  several  days  of  continual  sunshine  the  snows 
had  been  rapidly  melting.  We  spent  an  hour  in  a  fruit- 
less search  for  a  suitable  ford  and  then  drove  the  pack 
ponies  into  the  torrent  to  swim  across  and  composed 
ourselves  for  a  good  wetting  in  the  icy  water.  We  drew 
our  knees  above  the  necks  of  the  ponies,  seized  the 
crupper  strap  with  the  left  hand,  turned  the  ponies  up 
stream  and  made  the  crossing  without  serious  mishap. 
A  portion  of  the  way  the  ponies  were  obliged  to  swim 
and  the  rapid  current  carried  them  far  down  stream. 
Thanks  to  the  sagacity  of  the  little  fellows  and  to  their 
perseverance,  we  escaped  without  getting  wet,  although 
our  precarious  position,  balanced  as  we  were  on  the 
top  of  the  saddles,  promised  to  topple  us  into  the  angry 
waters.  The  pack  horses  swam  the  stream  with  the 
packing  cases  partly  submerged.  Within  an  hour  we 
were  made  comfortable  in  the  tidy  farmhouse  at 
Ljosavatn  and  the  contents  of  the  cases  were  spread 
in  the  kitchen  to  dry.  The  house  is  large  and  com- 
fortable and  two  beds  were  prepared  for  us  upstairs, 


210  ICELAND 

an  unusual  condition  as  the  guest  room  is  usually  on 
the  ground  floor.  We  had  only  one  inconvenience, — 
the  telephone  is  located  in  the  guest  chamber.  Beside 
the  house  there  is  a  small  church  where  the  farmers 
and  their  families  assemble  on  Sunday,  some  of  them 
from  a  considerable  distance. 

On  the  Sabbath  all  work  ceases  in  Iceland,  unless  ap- 
proaching rain  makes  it  imperative  that  the  cured  hay 
be  taken  to  the  stacks.  The  people  array  themselves 
in  their  best  attire  and  ride  to  church  at  a  wild  gallop, 
each  on  his  favorite  pony.  The  small  children  ride 
with  their  parents  and  the  young  people  from  the  differ- 
ent farms  so  time  their  journey  as  to  meet  at  the  inter- 
secting bridle  paths  and  relate  the  news  of  the  past 
week.  On  they  ride,  an  ever  increasing  cavalcade,  over 
moor  and  mountain  ridge,  across  brook  and  farm  till 
the  parish  has  assembled  at  the  church.  The  ponies 
are  hobbled  or  turned  into  a  compound  and  their  riders 
have  an  hour  for  gossip  before  the  service  begins.  The 
aged  sit  upon  the  grass  and  exchange  snuff — a  universal 
custom  in  Iceland, — and  eagerly  report  the  gossip  that 
has  filtered  to  the  distant  farms  from  the  coast.  The 
young  meet  in  the  church  yard  and  many  a  pledge  is 
here  given  that  binds  them  together  till  the  turf  of  the 
same  yard  receives  beneath  its  floral  decorations  one 
of  the  faithful  pair.  The  women  hasten  to  the  parson- 
age to  don  their  best  gown  and  arrange  their  braids  and 
the  silk  tassel  of  the  hufa,  woman's  cap.  Finally  ar- 
rives the  pastor  at  the  church,  who  greets  all  the  people 
individually,  arrays  himself  in  his  accustomed  robes 
and  then  with  the  ringing  of  the  bell  the  service  begins. 
The  sermon  is  generally  read  from  manuscript,  after 
which  the  Holy  Communion  is  celebrated  frequently  fol- 
lowed by  a  christening.  The  service  ended,  the  people 
usually  assemble  at  a  near-by  house  for  coffee  and 
further  conversation   after  which  the  parties  go  their 


My  VATN  2 1 1 

several  ways.  The  young  men  attempt  to  show  the 
speed  of  their  ponies  in  short  spurts  that  would  do 
credit  to  a  western  cow-boy,  each  trying  to  outstrip  the 
other.  The  maidens  follow  demurely  and  the  old  people 
ride  away  last  of  all  in  a  quiet  manner.  How  well  they 
know  from  experience  that  as  soon  as  their  sons  are  out 
of  sight  that  they  will  rein  down  those  galloping  steeds 
and  hold  them  until  the  maidens  overtake  them.  Then 
Siguro1  and  Karin,  side  by  side,  will  wend  their  leisurely 
way  to  Karin's  home  just  like  the  young  couples  of 
other  lands.  The  merry  greetings  and  the  cheerful  part- 
ings at  the  church  yard  have  ceased  to  fill  the  air  and 
only  the  wind  stirs  the  long  grass  upon  the  roof  and 
sways  the  flowers  upon  the  graves. 

No  pack  trains  come  and  go,  no  hay-laden  ponies 
wind  up  from  the  meadows,  no  scythe  rings  with  the 
stone, — the  sounds  of  farm-life  are  hushed  and  the  peace 
of  the  well-kept  Sabbath  rests  upon  these  homes.  Sun- 
day evening  calls  are  made  and  long  ones  they  are,  coffee 
is  served  with  delicious  cakes,  the  snuff  horn  circulates 
freely  and  in  the  compound  the  saddled  ponies  patiently 
await  the  coming  of  their  masters  for  the  wild  ride 
over  the  moors  to  their  own  pastures. 

I  have  witnessed  many  Sundays  in  Iceland  and  each 
one  impressed  me  with  the  peace  and  happiness  of  its 
people,  the  devotion  of  worship  and  the  value  of  the 
plain  and  simple  life  as  a  factor  in  contentment.  To 
the  young  men  who  enquired  about  the  customs  of  Amer- 
ica and  its  advantages  I  had  little  to  offer  and  my  advice 
was  to  stay  where  the  customs  of  centuries  had  ingrained 
habits  of  simplicity  and  instilled  contentment.  After 
all,  what  more  do  we  wish  in  this  world  than  content- 
ment? Given  enough  to  eat  and  to  wear,  protecting 
shelters,  books  and  an  occupation,  the  influence  of  right 
living  and  an  absence  of  the  craving  for  money  and  posi- 
tion, and  man  may  be  truely  happy, — no  matter  under 


212  ICELAND 

what  sky  his  tent  is  pitched.  In  Reykjavik  with  its 
sprinkling  of  foreign  merchants  and  its  few  people  who 
ape  the  customs  of  the  continent  in  dress  and  in  vice, 
yes  and  in  idleness  the  mother  of  most  of  the  vices,  con- 
ditions arc  different.  As  in  America,  so  in  Iceland,  the 
boy.,  who  leaves  the  paternal  roof  and  the  occupation  of 
his  ancestors,  who  scorns  the  opportunities  of  the  farm 
and  seeks  his  fortune  in  the  metropolis,  soon  puts  aside 
his  home-taught  virtues,  lapses  into  ways  of  idleness, 
acquires  the  idea  that  the  world  owes  him  the  same  liv- 
ing as  that  won  by  the  ceaseless  energy  of  toil,  and  it  is 
not  long  before  he  becomes  a  derelict  upon  the  ocean  of 
humanity. 

At  breakfast  we  were  treated  for  the  first  time  in 
our  Icelandic  experience  to  the  national  dish  of  skyr, 
curdled  milk.  My  first  experience  was  not  pleasant  but 
I  have  since  learned  to  relish  it.  It  was  necessary  to 
eat  a  goodly  portion  of  it  in  order  not  to  offend  the 
mistress  who  had  taken  considerable  trouble  to  prepare 
it  for  us  in  the  best  fashion.  Skyr  has  been  a  national 
dish  from  the  earliest  days  of  the  Vikings  but  the 
method  of  its  preparation  has  been  kept  secret.  On 
our  second  return  from  Iceland  we  were  accompanied 
by  an  Icelandic  maid,  who  frequently  prepared  for  our 
table  Icelandic  dishes,  but  we  could  never  persuade  her 
to  prepare  this  dish  nor  to  tell  us  how  it  was  made. 
Another  dish  set  before  us  was  cheese  made  of  sheep's 
milk;  it  was  nearly  chocolate  in  color  and  resembled  mild 
roquefort  in  flavor.  I  needed  no  repeated  trials  to  ac- 
quire a  taste  for  this  delicacy.  It  was  set  before  us  at 
every  farm  but  it  varied  a  good  deal  in  quality.  If  one 
does  not  relish  a  rich,  full-flavored  cheese  then  the 
Icelandic  cheese  of  sheeps'  milk  would  not  appeal  to  his 
taste. 

The    country   around    Ljosavatn    is   of   considerable 
geological  interest.     The  lake  is  of  glacial  origin  and 


MyVATN  213 

around  it  are  several  small  drumlins  of  ashes  and  rubble 
which  are  now  being  transformed  into  conglomerate. 
The  lake  has  the  form  of  the  Scottish  inland  lochs  and 
was  formed  by  the  filling  in  of  one  end  of  a  glacial  val- 
ley with  glacial  debris.  Since  the  formation  of  the  lake 
there  has  been  a  lava  outflow  across  the  east  end  of  the 
valley  and  scores  of  small  craters  are  along  the  banks 
of  the  Djupd. 

An  hour's  ride  from  the  farm  across  the  ancient  lava 
bed  brings  the  traveller  to  the  bridge  across  the  Skjdl- 
fandafljot,  Trembling  River,  and  to  the  Godafoss, 
Falls-of-the-Gods,  one  of  the  most  beautiful  waterfalls 
in  Iceland.  It  has  not  the  grandeur  of  the  Gullfoss  and 
the  Dettifoss  but  its  symmetrical  formation  and  the  two 
even  sheets  of  water  that  pour  over  its  brink  unbroken 
make  it  very  attractive.  In  form  it  is  like  Niagara,  and 
like  Niagara  has  its  rocky  island  near  the  middle.  The 
eastern  fall  is  about  seven  feet  lower  than  the  western, 
due  to  the  lava  formation  over  which  the  water  flows. 
The  falls  are  between  twenty-five  and  thirty  feet  in 
height  according  to  the  melting  of  the  snows.  The 
rocky  islet  is  split  asunder  and  a  solid  stream  of  water 
pours  through  the  cleft  forming  a  central  fall.  The 
spray  and  mist  from  the  falls  are  visible  for  many  miles 
around  and  to  one  accustomed  to  look  for  hot  springs, 
whenever  mists  are  seen  rising  in  a  column  from  the 
plain,  this  water  fall  comes  as  a  great  surprise  when 
one  approaches  the  unexpected  canyon. 

All  the  country  side  is  historic  land  and  is  frequently 
mentioned  in  the  Sagas.  When  we  left  the  river  valley 
and  climbed  to  the  summit  of  the  tableland  and  were 
skirting  the  great  bog,  we  recalled  that  it  was  related 
in  the  Saga  of  Hrafnkell,  Frey's  Priest,  how  Sdmr  with 
three  ponies  rode  from  Myvatn  across  Fljotsheidi, 
River-Heath,  to  Ljosavatn  Pass  and  on  to  the  great 
fiord.     We  were  taking  the  same  journey  but  in  the 


214  ICELAND 

opposite  direction.  The  great  heath  on  the  upland  is 
typical  of  the  highland  heaths  of  Iceland  and  may  be 
briefly  described  in  this  connection. 

It  is  a  tongue  of  land  some  thirty  miles  long,  reach- 
ing down  from  the  inland  plateau  between  two  great 
river  valleys.  When  the  summit  is  gained  it  appears 
quite  flat  but  a  place  where  one  would  little  expect  to 
find  extensive  bogs  and  marshes,  but  such  is  the  case. 
We  followed  the  bog  at  its  margin  for  nearly  two  hours 
in  search  of  a  place  to  cross  and  noted  that  patches  of 
water  glimmered  here  and  there.  Beautiful  Arctic 
flowers  fringed  the  margin  of  the  pools,  masses  of 
Eriophorum,  Cotton-Grass,  spread  their  white  sheets 
in  the  sun  and  the  dwarf  birch  and  Arctic  willow  tan- 
gled every  foot  of  the  way.  Scores  of  ancient  bridle 
trails  cut  into  the  ground  so  deeply  that  in  places  the 
ponies  rubbed  their  sides  against  the  turf  in  following 
them.  Numerous  sheep  were  scattered  about  the  moor- 
land singly  and  in  groups  of  three  to  a  dozen.  Often 
a  sheep  would  get  into  the  trail  and  run  in  front  of 
the  ponies  for  half  an  hour  bleating  in  a  frightened 
manner.  This  custom  of  making  a  needless  run  until 
exhausted  and  driven  far  from  their  companions  speaks 
strongly  for  the  small  intelligence  of  these  domestic 
animals.  The  sheep  run  wild  upon  the  mountain  pas- 
tures and  moors  throughout  the  summer  and  are  charac- 
teristic features  of  the  landscape. 

At  the  narrow  neck  of  glacial  moraine  where  we 
crossed  the  great  bog  we  halted  for  an  hour  for  lunch 
and  to  graze  the  ponies  and  shift  the  saddles.  These 
out  of  door  luncheons  are  real  picnics.  One  turns  up 
the  lid  of  a  packing  case  for  a  table,  seats  himself  upon 
the  grass  and  finds  more  enjoyment  in  the  repast  than 
at  the  best  spread  board  in  a  fashionable  hotel.  The 
plover  and  whimbrel  are  always  about  to  add  their 
joyous  cries  to  the  calling  of  the  curious  sheep,   the 


My  VATN  2 1 5 

ponies  graze  contentedly  around  the  outer  circle  of  the 
luncheon  board  and  over  all  is  the  deep  blue  vault  and 
showers  of  glorious  sunshine.  Those  hours  of  rest  and 
refreshment  upon  the  heather  and  the  enjoyment  of  the 
pipe !  We  were  veritable  Arabs,  our  steeds  the  thor- 
oughbred Icelandic  ponies  and  our  oasis  the  patch  of 
grass  in  the  midst  of  a  great  lava  desolation.  There 
are  no  palm  trees  beside  the  water  hole  to  complete  the 
Oriental  scene  but  a  pillar  of  lava  shelters  one  from 
the  wind,  or,  if  the  day  be  sultry,  one  may  crawl  be- 
neath a  scrub  of  Arctic  willow  to  ward  off  the  sun  and 
it  is  then,  if  the  flies  are  present,  that  the  pipe  is  a 
double  comfort. 

In  the  middle  of  the  afternoon  as  we  were  descend- 
ing a  ridge  into  a  gully  with  a  boggy  brook  to  cross  we 
heard  a  shout  from  the  top  of  the  ridge,  'Turn  to  the 
left,  the  crossing  is  better."  Looking  back  we  saw  a 
party  of  several  Icelanders  galloping  down  the  slope, 
led  by  a  portly  gentleman  with  a  smiling  countenance. 
We  paused  till  he  approached  and  were  surprised  to 
have  him  address  us  by  name  and  add  that  he  expected 
us  to  spend  the  night  at  his  home.  It  was  Arm  Jonsson 
of  Skutustadir,  Cave-Stead,  the  Dean  of  Myvatn)  ac- 
companied by  his  wife  and  three  friends.  They 
had  just  come  from  Akureyri,  having  stopped  at 
the  parsonage  of  Hals  while  we  had  been  at 
Ljosavatn.  From  this  moment  until  we  reached 
his  farm  the  ride  was  most  enjoyable  on  account  of 
the  companionship  of  the  Dean.  Several  years  of  his 
early  life  had  been  passed  in  North  Dakota  and  he 
was  well  acquainted  with  the  customs  of  the  United 
States.  He  spoke  English  with  fluency  and  had  many 
questions  to  ask  about  America.  We  were  glad  to  give 
him  the  information  in  return  for  the  many  questions 
we  found  necessary  to  ask  him  about  Iceland  and  the 
customs  of  his  people. 


216  ICELAND 

With  sixteen  ponies  we  made  a  merry  showing  as 
eight  of  us  rode  in  single  file  at  a  full  gallop  over  the 
undulating  moor,  now  rising  to  the  top  of  a  ridge  with 
a  broad  view  of  the  country  bordering  the  lake  we 
were  approaching,  now  descending  into  a  gully  rich  in 
grass  where  we  made  the  customary  halt  to  rest  the 
ponies.  Towards  evening  we  rode  down  to  the  Krdkd, 
Crow-River,  which  we  forded  and  soon  afterwards  ar- 
rived at  the  farm  of  the  Dean.  We  were  ushered  into 
the  sitting  room,  a  separate  room  was  provided  for  our 
luggage  and  we  were  given  a  large  room  over  the 
Thinghus  adjoining.  The  Thinghus  in  each  Syssel, 
County,  corresponds  to  the  Court  House  in  our  Coun- 
ties. 

The  children  followed  us  about  with  some  curiosity 
and  were  especially  interested  in  our  toilet  prepara- 
tions. They  were  excellently  behaved  and  watched 
every  chance  to  be  of  assistance.  We  enjoyed  an  excel- 
lent supper  and  that  which  made  it  especially  agree- 
able was  the  fact  that  the  Dean's  wife  dined  with  us. 
This  is  a  rare  occurence  for  strangers  in  Iceland.  After 
supper  we  sat  for  a  long  time  listening  to  the  Dean's 
account  of  his  people.  He  was  very  obliging  and  af- 
forded us  much  information  relative  to  the  conditions 
of  the  church,  Icelandic  politics,  woman  suffrage  and 
education. 

Weary  with  the  eight  hours  in  the  saddle,  Mrs. 
Russell  retired  while  I  roamed  about  the  farm  till  mid- 
night, examining  the  strange  lava  formations.  Mid- 
night? Yes,  but  bright  as  day  and  under  a  cloudless 
sky.  When  one  is  interested  in  the  north  of  Iceland, 
he  docs  not  know  when  to  go  to  bed.  At  the  end  of 
my  long  ramble  I  expected  to  find  Mrs.  Russell  asleep, 
on  the  contrary  she  was  sitting  up  in  bed  admiring  the 
needlework  on  the  sheets  and  pillow  cases.  The  upper 
sheet  had  a  hand  crocheted  insertion  in  Icelandic,  Goda 


MyVATN  217 

Nott,  Sof  du  Rott,  Good  Night,  Sleep  Softly.  One  of 
the  pillow  slips  was  marked  in  the  same  fishion,  Goda 
Nott,  Pabbi,  Good  Night  Papa.  The  other  was 
marked,  with  the  similar  Icelandic  expression  for  Good 
Night,  Mamma.  We  admired  the  skillful  needlework 
and  the  amount  of  time  and  patience  necessary  to  com- 
plete this  remarkable  set  and  admitted  that  the  Dean's 
wife  possessed  considerable  skill,  even  among  Icelandic 
women  where  the  art  of  hand  embroidery  is  far  ad- 
vanced. When  we  commented  upon  it,  Mr.  Jonsson, 
with  a  smile,  called  to  him  his  little  daughter  of  twelve 
and  said, — 

"This  is  the  little  lady  who  did  that  needle  work. 
She  did  it  while  in  the  fields  last  summer  and  without 
our  knowing  anything  about  it.  It  was  her  Christmas 
present  to  father  and  mother." 

Several  days  later  as  we  were  packing  the  cases  pre- 
paratory to  our  departure,  this  little  girl  approached 
and  shyly  presented  to  Mrs.  Russell  a  package.  Not 
knowing  the  contents  it  was  accepted  with  the  customary 
handshaking.  When  a  chance  moment  offered  it  was 
slyly  opened  and  lo!  it  was  one  of  those  pillow  cases. 
We  then  protested  against  receiving  so  valuable  a  gift 
and  one  that  had  been  devoted  to  a  parent  with  a  child's 
love  at  Christmas  time.  Mr.  Jonsson  assured  us  that  his 
daughter  was  sincere  in  her  wish  that  we  should  take  it 
home  to  the  United  States  and  that  she  would  be 
happy  to  make  another  to  complete  the  set.  This  pil- 
low case,  covering  a  pillow  of  genuine  eider  down,  has 
since  held  a  place  of  honor  in  our  guest  room  and  we 
never  see  it  without  recalling  the  bright  faces  and  the 
hearty  hospitality  of  Skutustadir. 

At  eight  in  the  morning  I  awoke  and  was  scarcely 
out  of  bed  when  the  door  opened  and  in  came  the  maid, 
Kristine,  with  coffee,  sugar,  cream  and  cakes  for  our 
first  meal.     I  tried  to  have  her  leave  it  outside  the 


218  ICELAND 

door  and  motioned  her  away  but  it  was  of  no  use.  In 
she  came  with  the  air  of  one  who  knew  her  duty  to 
her  master's  guests  and  intended  to  fulfill  it.  She 
placed  the  tray  on  a  stand,  turned  quickly  to  our  clothes, 
gathered  them  up  and  was  about  to  take  them  away 
when  I  protested  as  vigorously  as  I  could  with  signs 
that  they  were  necessary  for  my  immediate  use,  but  to 
no  effect.  I  did  succeed  in  pulling  from  her  grasp  my 
trousers  but  she  fled  smilingly  with  all  the  other  items 
of  wearing  apparel  even  to  the  hats  and  riding  boots. 
We  were  prisoners.  After  the  coffee  had  been  drunk 
the  maid  returned  with  the  clothes  nicely  brushed  and 
folded  and  the  boots  polished.  Ever  after  this  I  slept 
with  my  trousers  under  my  pillow  and  my  extra  pair 
of  shoes  hid  in  the  room;  otherwise  I  would  have  often 
been  deprived  of  an  hour  of  delightful  strolling  about 
the  farm  before  the  real  breakfast. 

The  Myvatn  region  is  the  most  fascinating,  the  most 
weird  as  well  as  the  most  beautiful  place  in  all  Iceland. 
I  believe  it  to  be  the  fairest  spot  in  all  that  land  of  sun- 
kissed  and  wind-swept  enchantment.  The  lake  is 
twenty  miles  long  and  its  deepest  place  is  not  over 
twelve  feet.  There  are  places  where  the  water  is  hot 
and  others  where  the  water  flows  from  under  the  lava 
in  ice-cold  streams  into  the  lake.  At  the  entrance  of 
these  streams  there  is  excellent  trout  fishing.  The  lake 
is  dotted  with  islands,  each  a  small  crater,  each  fringed 
to  the  edge  of  the  water  with  the  fragrant  Angelica, 
each  clothed  with  grass  nearly  to  the  summit  and  each 
summit  black  and  red,  scorched,  blistered  and  horrent. 
Hundreds  of  these  low  craters  fringe  the  southern  end 
of  the  lake  and  are  scattered  over  the  adjoining  farms, 
especially  the  farm  of  Skutustadir.  They  are  an  exact 
representation  of  the  mountains  of  the  moon  as  viewed 
through  a  powerful  telescope.  To  the  geologist  the 
Myvatn  craters  are  of  rare  interest,  for  nowhere  else 


Fording    a    Shallow    Arm    of    the    Myvatn.      Turf 

Cottage  in   the   Distance. 


V 


Contorted,    Twisted  and  Crumpled  Lava  at  Skutu- 

stadir. 


MyVATN  219 

on  the  earth  are  they  duplicated  in  the  numbers  and 
in  their  peculiar  formation.  They  rest  like  huge  ant 
hills  on  a  level  plain,  each  is  circular  in  form  and  many 
of  them  are  confluent  at  the  base.  The  slopes  of  many 
of  the  mounds  are  covered  with  bombs  and  of  character- 
istic type.  The  character  of  the  bombs  on  the  slopes 
of  widely  separated  craters  is  different,  indicating  a  dii- 
ferent  period  of  eruption  and  a  different  composition 
of  lava  which  entered  into  their  formation. 

One  of  the  craters  deserves  a  special  description.  It 
is  shaped  like  an  inverted  funnel  with  the  stem  cut  off  at 
the  apex  of  the  funnel.  Out  of  this  orifice  the  lava  was 
hurled  in  liquid  drops  to  so  great  a  height  in  the 
air  that  it  cooled  and  the  bombs  returned  to  the 
crater  and  around  it  like  a  shower  of  grape-shot.  It 
must  have  been  a  wonderful  sight,  the  spraying  of  the 
upper  air  with  liquid  lava  like  water  from  a  hose  and 
to  such  an  altitude  that  the  stream  broke  into  drops 
and  every  drop  cooled  before  it  returned  to  earth.  A 
few  of  the  bombs  are  fused  together  because  they 
collided  in  a  viscid  condition.  Others  are  flattened  be- 
cause the  mass  struck  the  earth  before  they  had  be- 
come rigid;  but  most  of  them  are  spherical  and  vary 
in  size  from  tiny  pellets  to  a  croquet  ball. 

There  are  several  tintrons  around  Myvatn  and  in 
the  adjacent  region  of  Hiisavik.  A  tintron  is  a  hornito, 
or  more  correctly  speaking,  a  lava  chimney.  A  hornito 
is  a  veritable  lava  oven  from  which  issues  smoke  and 
fumes  and  it  may  be  level  or  even  sunk  below  the  level 
of  the  general  surface  of  the  lava  sheet;  while  a 
tintron,  like  a  factory  chimney  with  a  spreading  base, 
rises  from  the  level  ground  to  the  height  of  many  feet. 
It  is  evident  from  examination  that  they  were  formed  by 
the  spouting  of  lava  in  a  liquid  state  so  hot  as  to  have 
lost  its  viscousness,  and,  like  geyser-formations,  that 
which  fell  upon  the  rim  cooled  and  continual  spoutings 


220  ICELAND 

built  the  tintron.  We  ascended  one  of  the  tintrons  be- 
side the  lake  and  gazed  down  into  its  black  depths. 
The  outer  surface  at  the  base  is  clothed  with  grass 
while  the  tintron  proper  is  encrusted  with  lichens. 
What  a  rugged  and  forbidding  aspect  is  presented  in 
the  interior!  Deep,  deep  down  into  the  earth  extends 
the  flue,  its  wall  hung  with  lava  stalactites  and  patches 
of  lava  that  solidified  as  the  material  dripped  back 
into  the  interior  after  an  explosion. 

Of  the  scores  of  craters  around  Myvatn  that  I  ex- 
plored, only  one  contained  water, — except  those  in  the 
lake, — and  this  one  is  known  as  Thangbrandspollr, 
Thangbrand's  Pool.  Thangbrand  was  a  Saxon  Priest 
whom  Olaf  Tryggvason,  King  of  Norway  (995-1000 
A.  D.)  sent  to  Iceland  to  perform  a  wholesale  christen- 
ing of  the  pagans.  King  Olaf  forced  Christianity  upon 
his  subjects  at  the  point  of  the  sword,  killing  and  plun- 
dering all  who  refused  to  forsake  the  worship  of  Thor 
and  Odin  and  take  the  christening.  Thangbrand  was 
chosen  for  the  Icelandic  mission  because  of  his  inhuman 
and  zealous  methods.  He  had,  what  he  deserved,  little 
success.     We  read  that, — 

*"Hall  let  himself  be  christened  and  all  his  house- 
hold." 

It  was  merely  the  act  without  any  conversion  from 
Scandinavian  polytheism.     Again  we  read, — 

"Winterlid,  the  Scald,  made  a  scurvy  rime  about 
him/'  Thangbrand.     And  again  we  find, — 

**"Thorvald,  the  Guileful,  and  Winterlid,  the  Scald, 
made  a  scurvy  rime  about  Thangbrand,  but  he  slew 
them  both.  Thangbrand  abode  three  winters  in  Ice- 
land, and  was  the  bane  of  three  men  or  ever  he  de- 
parted thence." 

It  is  reported  in  Iceland  that  this  Pool  is  the  place 

*Heimskringla,  Vol.  I.  Chap.  LXXX. 
**Ibid. 


MyVATN  221 

where  Thangbrand  christened  his  converts.  Since  it 
is  authentic  that  he  passed  the  time  in  Iceland  at  the 
home  of  Hall,  which  was  in  the  southeast  of  Iceland, 
it  is  not  likely  that  this  is  the  real  pool,  although  it  is 
true  that  christenings  took  place  in  this  pool  at  very 
early  times.  The  Vikings  did  not  take  very  kindly  to 
the  christening  and  the  following  facts  will  be  of  in- 
terest to  those  who  dispute  over  the  correct  method  of 
baptism.  When  the  priests  found  that  the  Icelanders 
were  the  most  stubborn  of  all  the  pagans  of  their  ex- 
perience about  the  rite  of  christening,  the  priests 
changed  their  tactics  and  performed  their  christenings 
in  the  warm  pools  adjacent  to  the  hot  springs.  Their 
method  of  baptism  in  the  eleventh  century  in  Iceland 
may  be  inferred. 

The  Saga  references  show  that  the  Myvatrt  region 
was  an  important  place  in  the  early  days  of  colonization 
and  in  subsequent  centuries  and  we  reluctantly  close  the 
old  annals  so  full  of  interest  to  the  antiquarian  and  the 
historian,  and  turn  again  to  a  more  general  view  of  the 
Myvatn  of  the  present.  The  view  from  Skutustafii?-  is 
remarkable  and  of  great  variety.  In  the  foreground, 
the  quiet  lake,  alive  with  water  fowl  and  fringed  with 
prosperous  farms,  presents  a  picture  of  pastoral  peace 
and  beauty;  in  the  distance  across  the  lake  rise  clouds 
of  steam  and  sulfurous  gases  from  the  sizzling  sol- 
fataras  of  Ndmaskard,  Sulfur- Pass;  to  the  left  rises 
the  innocent  looking  peaks  of  Krafla,  Creeping,  and 
Leirnukr,  Mud-Peak,  two  famous  volcanoes;  to  the 
right,  the  prominent  feature  in  the  landscape  is  Hver- 
fjall,  Hot-Spring-Mountain.  Hverfjall  is  a  large  cir- 
cular crater  of  the  explosion  type.  It  stands  700  feet 
above  the  level  of  the  plain  and  is  4875  feet  in  diameter 
across  the  top.  It  is  four  miles  in  circumference  at  the 
summit  of  the  rim.  The  interior  is  a  mass  of  fragments 
and  crushed  rubble.     There  is  a  large  mound  in  the 


222  ICELAND 

center  composed  of  crumpled  lava  with  angular  edges. 
It  is  doubtful  if  lava  ever  flowed  from  this  great  crater, 
although  there  was  said  to  have  been  an  eruption  in 
1728.  I  found  no  evidence  of  such  eruption,  other 
than  that  of  a  violent  upheaval  of  the  crust  due  to  in- 
ternal explosions  of  a  mighty  character.  A  force  be- 
yond human  comprehension  or  calculation  thrust  up- 
wards this  enormous  mass  and  dropped  the  titanic  frag- 
ments in  the  form  of  this  circular  wall  700  feet  high 
here, — 

"Wide  ruin  spread  the  elements  around, 

His  havoc  leagues  on  leagues  you  may  descry." 

The  farm  at  Skutustadir  is  one  to  which  my  thoughts 
often  revert.  I  spent  some  time  there  in  19 10  and 
was  so  charmed  with  the  place  and  delighted  with  the 
Dean  and  his  family  that  I  returned  to  it  for  a  more 
extended  visit  in  19 13.  The  Dean  has  since  moved 
to  Holmar,  Eskifjordr.  Skutnstaftir  is  a  scene  un- 
matched in  Iceland,  the  lake,  the  sloping  uplands 
clothed  with  excellent  grass  and  sprinkled  with  a  wealth 
of  Arctic  flowers,  the  flocks  and  herds  in  the  succulent 
pastures,  the  farm  buildings,  Thinghus  and  church 
grouped  on  an  eminence  between  two  bodies  of  water 
and  the  grand  panorama  of  meadows,  rivers  and  vol- 
canoes, with  their  ascending  columns  and  clouds  of 
steam, — a  panorama  that  is  well  worth  a  summer  and 
ten  thousand  miles  of  travel.  On  each  of  my  visits 
the  haying  was  in  full  swing.  The  men  rose  early  to 
cut  the  grass  in  the  dew  and  paused  at  midday  for  a 
long  rest  and  a  plunge  in  the  lake  while  the  raking,  bund- 
ling and  stacking  continued  well  into  the  night.  Nu- 
merous cocks  of  hay  rose  from  the  closely  pared  turf, 
many  wild  ducks  led  their  young  from  one  sheet  of 
water  to  the  other,  crossing  the  yard  between  the  build- 
ings or  pausing  around  the  haycocks  to  pick  the  numer- 


MyVATN  223 

ous  insects  or  venturing  close  to  the  doorways  of  the 
buildings  for  bits  of  food.  Along  the  margin  of  the 
lake  I  found  many  of  the  swimming  sandpipers,  Lobipes 
liyperboreus,  the  Northern  Phalarope.  It  is  a  beautiful 
bird  and  at  Myvatn  it  is  so  tame  that  one  may  sit 
quietly  on  the  bank  and  coax  it  up  within  a  few  feet  of 
the  shore  where  it  will  dart  about  picking  up  the  in- 
sects thrown  to  it.  I  devoted  an  hour  to  studying  this 
bird,  feeding  it  in  groups  of  several  and  in  taking  their 
photographs.  What  a  shame  it  is  that  New  England 
birds  are  not  treated  with  the  same  thoughtfulness  as 
the  birds  of  Iceland!  These  birds  were  within  a  min- 
ute's walk  of  the  house. 

We  strolled  around  the  east  side  of  the  lake  to  the 
north  shore  and  for  three  days  made  our  headquarters 
at  Reykjahlicf,  Smoking-Pass,  a  remnant  of  a  once  pros- 
perous farm  which  has  been  destroyed  by  the  lava  pour- 
ing from  the  vents  of  the  foot  hills  that  surround 
Leirhnukr.  English  travellers  of  casual  observation 
have  stated  that  this  great  flood  of  lava  came  from 
the  volcano  itself  but  if  they  had  taken  the  trouble  to 
follow  the  streams  of  lava  from  the  farm  to  their 
source,  they  would  have  found  that  a  deep  valley  runs 
between  these  foothills  and  the  real  volcano  of  Leir- 
hnukr. This  lava  flowed  during  the  years  172;,  1727, 
1728  and  1729.  Leirhntikr  was  active  at  the  same 
time,  hence  their  error  in  attributing  this  sheet  of  lava 
to  the  volcano.  The  volcano  has  enough  havoc  to  its 
discredit  without  charmn£  it  with  the  crime  of  ruininc 
the  fertile  plains  at  the  north  end  of  the  lake.  In  1729 
an  extensive  tract  of  grazing  and  mowing  land  of  rare 
fertility  was  overflowed  by  molten  rock.  Some  branches 
of  the  stream  entered  the  lake  and  quenched  their  ardent 
fires,  one  branch  flowed  to  the  northeast  corner  of  the 
church  and  was  arrested  in  its  flow  within  two  feet  of 
the  building.     Here  the  stream  divided  into  two  arms 


224  ICELAND 

and  flowed  around  the  edifice  reuniting  about  sixty  feet 
from  the  opposite  corner,  leaving  the  church  entirely 
unharmed  in  the  midst  of  the  terrific  heat  of  its  fiery 
glow.  Says  Henderson,  who  mused  at  length  over  the 
incident, — 

"Who  knows  but  the  effectual  earnest  prayer  of  some 
pious  individual,  or  some  designs  of  mercy,  may  have 
been  the  cause  fixed  in  the  eternal  purpose  of  Jehovah 
for  the  preservation  of  this  edifice  ?" 

On  this  same  farm,  and  at  some  distance  from  the 
margin  of  the  lake,  there  is  a  deep  rift  in  the  plain,  the 
descent  into  which  is  made  with  little  difficulty.  There 
is  an  abundance  of  water  in  the  rift  at  a  temperature 
of  90°F.  The  place  is  called  Storigjd,  Large-Rift, 
and  is  a  result  of  prehistoric  earthquake  action.  The 
rift  is  very  deep  and  extends  up  near  to  the  hot  moun- 
tain from  whence  issues  the  hot  water.  The  water  in 
the  bed  of  the  chasm  is  clear  as  crystal  and  reflects  most 
beautifully  the  narrow  streak  of  sky  and  the  flower  en- 
crusted walls.  Here  the  wild  geranium  and  ferns  grow 
abundantly,  almost  tropically,  on  the  walls  and  in  the 
clefts  of  the  rocks.  It  was  a  novel  experience  to  take 
a  swim  deep  down  in  the  crust  of  the  earth  in  this  hot 
water  of  emerald  hue,  to  look  up  the  chasm  and  see  the 
towering  ridges  wreathed  with  rising  steam  and  then 
to  turn  about  and  gaze  towards  the  snow-capped  peaks 
beyond  the  other  end  of  the  rift.  The  bath  is  invigorat- 
ing and  puts  vigor  and  elasticity  into  the  body  to  such 
a  degree  that  it  is  noticeable  for  hours  afterwards.  It 
has  been  thought  to  be  strongly  radio-active. 

No  journey  to  Reykjahlifi  would  be  complete  without 
a  visit  to  the  small  island  of  Sh'itness,  one  of  the  extinct 
craters  in  the  lake.  It  is  a  paradise  for  ducks.  Hav- 
ing obtained  permission  of  the  farmer  at  Grimstadir, 
Grim's-Farm,  who  owns  the  island,  we  rowed  out  to 
the  island  accompanied  by  the  farmer  and  Olafur.   Such 


MyVATN  225 

a  place  for  ducks  we  had  never  seen;  they  breed  in 
thousands  on  the  small  islands  in  the  lake  and  in  the 
retired  creeks,  but  the  island  of  Slutness  is  one  great 
nest  for  ducks.  The  farmer  told  us  that  he  had  already 
taken  over  13,000  eggs  from  the  island  that  season, 
and  had  left  sufficient  for  breeding  purposes.  These 
eggs  are  packed  in  water-glass  for  winter  consumption. 
One  may  walk  across  the  island  in  three  minutes  with 
ease  and  this  makes  the  number  of  birds  seem  all  the 
larger.  During  the  nesting  season  it  is  not  possible  to 
step  anywhere  without  taking  precaution  not  to  tread 
upon  the  birds.  Here  one  may  see  the  Golden  Eyed 
Duck,  Clangula  Islandica,  in  all  its  glory,  lift  it  from 
the  nest  for  photographing  and  return  it  without  any 
apparent  disturbance  to  the  bird.  The  eider  duck, 
Somateria  Mollissima  Dresseri,  is  abundant  on  this  is- 
land, though  usually  seeking  the  sea  coast  during  the 
nesting  season.  The  island  itself,  even  if  the  birds  were 
missing,  is  charming.  It  is  circular  in  form,  with  the 
crater  portion  filled  with  water  to  the  level  of  the  lake. 
It  is  in  this  water  that  the  ducklings  take  their  first 
swimming  exercises.  In  many  places  it  was  literally 
covered  with  the  puffy  brown  balls  that  darted  hither 
and  yon  amid  the  loud  scolding  of  the  numerous  moth- 
ers in  their  efforts  to  keep  the  different  families  from 
getting  inextricably  mixed.  Around  the  margin  of  the 
basin  there  is  a  remarkable  plant  society  with  numerous 
members,  wonderful  for  this  high  latitude,  above  Lat. 
6<;0-30'.  The  mountain  ash  and  Arctic  willow  form 
dense  thickets  near  the  margin  of  the  pool  and  close  to 
the  water  the  Angelica,  Angelica  officinalis,  stands  to 
a  height  of  five  feet  and  when  crushed  fills  the  air  with 
the  fragrance  of  its  oil.  This  plant  grows  luxuriantlv 
on  many  portions  of  the  lake  shore  as  well  as  on  the 
islands  and  it  is  highly  prized  by  the  inhabitants.  The 
list  of  plants  which  we  collected  here  is  too  long  to  give 


226  ICELAND 

in  full.  There  were  over  thirty  specimens  of  flower- 
ing plants,  among  which  we  noticed  the  violets  in  dense 
mats,  vigorous  geraniums,  Geranium  maculatum,  with 
larger  and  deeper  colored  blossoms  than  in  New  Eng- 
land, dandelions  and  arnica  in  great  profusion,  asters, 
marigolds  and  wild  pinks.  This  island  will  yield  a  good 
deal  of  information  to  the  botanist  interested  in  Ecology 
and  in  the  variation  of  species. 

The  house  at  Reykjahlib*,  is  an  ancient  one  built  of 
turf  and  stone  with  the  usual  turf  roof,  covered  with 
grass  in  a  flourishing  condition.  In  front  of  the  house 
is  the  only  windmill  that  I  have  seen  in  Iceland.  The 
sails  are  of  galvanized  iron  and  laid  on  the  yards  in 
squares  like  the  glass  in  a  window.  The  mill  is  a  small 
affair  and  is  used  to  grind  barley  and  rye  for  the  use  of 
the  family.  No  grain  is  raised  in  the  country  but  it 
is  all  imported  from  Europe  and  ground  as  needed. 
The  entrance  to  the  house,  like  the  one  described  in  the 
chapter  on  Hekla,  is  through  a  hallway  with  an  age- 
trodden  floor.  The  guest  room  is  finished  in  wood 
and  we  found  it  neat  and  clean.  We  are  glad  to  report 
this  state  of  cleanliness  because  the  English  writers  tell 
strange  tales  about  the  uncleanliness  of  this  house  and 
its  vermin-infested  guest  room.  The  people  at  the  farm 
spoke  no  English  but  they  waited  upon  us  with  the  cus- 
tomary Icelandic  cordiality  and  we  thoroughly  enjoyed 
the  several  meals  prepared  especially  for  our  table.  The 
trout  came  fresh  from  the  lake  and  the  prime  eggs  from 
ducks'  nests  on  the  islands. 

One  day  I  found  a  magnificent  specimen  of  an  edible 
mushroom,  Lycoperdon  giganteum,  and  to  the  horror 
of  the  people  on  the  farm  I  requested  that  it  be  cooked. 
This  specimen  was  ten  inches  in  diameter,  hard,  white 
and  in  prime  condition.  It  had  been  long  since  we  had 
tasted  mushrooms  and  our  vegetable  diet  had  been  a 
sparing  one  since  we  left  the  steamer,  so  I  persisted, 


A  Hot  Water  Fall  at  Hveravellir 


Sliitness,   Crater  Island  hi   the  Myiatn.      Home  of 

the  Golden  Eyed  Dink. 


MyVATN  227 

through  Olafur,  that  "the  Americans  really  mean  that 
they  wish  this  mushroom  cooked  and  they  will  eat  it." 
Our  directions  were  carefully  followed  and  the  Lycop- 
erdon  came  to  the  table  well  prepared  and  in  full  flavor. 
What  consternation  it  created  in  the  kitchen  we  will 
never  know,  save  that  there  was  much  talking  there 
and  uproarious  laughter  in  that  department  during  the 
cooking  process.  The  maiden  who  brought  it  to  the 
table  came  in  with  a  blushing  face  and  ill-concealed 
laughter  at  some  remarks  that  followed  as  she  left  the 
kitchen.  It  certainly  was  delicious  and  after  we  had 
dipped  deeply  into  the  contents  of  the  tureen,  Olafur 
was  persuaded  to  try  it  and  the  farmer  standing  in  the 
doorway  looked  aghast  when  he  saw  Olafur  eat  it. 
Olafur  pronounced  it  good  and  invited  the  farmer  to 
try  it  but  the  latter  shook  his  head  in  a  manner  to 
convince  us  that  he  had  no  idea  of  being  so  unwise 
as  to  eat  such  a  thing.  On  the  following  morning  when 
I  called  for  the  remainder,  the  response  was, — "it  is 
all  gone."  Whether  they  threw  it  away  or  whether 
it  was  eaten  after  consultation  with  Olafur  I  will  never 
know  for  a  certainty  but  I  believe  that  it  was  eaten,  also 
I  believe  that  every  sizable  Lycoperdon  growing  on  this 
farm  in  the  future  is  destined  for  the  stew  pan  with  real 
cream. 

We  tarried  at  the  farm  for  three  days  and  during 
this  time  we  had  every  possible  attention  paid  to  our 
comfort.  The  farmer  always  came  to  our  room  during 
meals  and  took  coffee  with  us  and  smoked  a  cigar  at 
the  end.  He  always  proffered  his  snuff  horn  to  me 
but  I  was  impolite  enough  to  refuse  this  courtesv.  Snuff 
taking  is  universal  among  the  men.  When  two  men 
meet  upon  the  trail,  whether  they  know  each  other  or 
not,  they  salute,  each  brings  out  the  snuff  horn  and  the 
horns  are  exchanged.  A  little  is  then  poured  upon  the 
back  of  the  left  wrist  from  which  it  is  snuffed  up  the 


228  ICELAND 

right  and  then  the  left  nostril.  One  or  two  violent 
sneezes  follow,  each  man  trying  to  sneeze  the  louder  in 
compliment  to  the  finer  quality  of  the  other's  snuff, 
though  it  often  happens  that  both  horns  were  filled 
out  of  the  same  jar  in  the  store.  The  sneezing  over, 
they  again  shake  hands,  salute  and  ride  their  several 
ways. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

KRAFLA 

*    *    *     "The  mountain's  head 

Stupendous  rose;  crags,  bare  and  bleachen,  spread 

In  wild  confusion, — fearful  to  the  eye, — 

In  barren  greatness,  while  the  valleys  lie 

Crouching  beneath,  in  their  brown  vesture  clad, 

And  silent  all." 

— Cottle. 

IN  the  early  morning  we  mounted  the  best  of  our 
ponies  for  the  toilsome  ascent  of  Krafla,  Creeping. 
We  crossed  the  intervening  ridge  of  mountains 
through  the  pass  of  Ndmaskard,  Solfatara-Pass, 
which  is  a  deep  defile  in  the  volcanic  range.  At  the 
base  of  this  ridge  there  are  spread  out  broad  plains 
of  multi-colored  earth  from  which  clouds  of  steam  and 
sulfur  gases  ascend,  which  are  visible  for  many  miles 
across  the  lake.  With  caution  we  picked  a  way  for  the 
ponies  amid  the  fumaroles  and  entered  the  pass.  As 
far  as  the  eye  can  range,  this  slope  of  the  mountain  is 
strewn  with  crystals  of  sulfur  and  gypsum  interspersed 
with  alum  and  needle  zeolites  in  various  forms.  This 
slope  is  thinly  crusted  and  perforated,  like  a  skimmer, 
with  orifices  whence  issue  vile  smelling  gases  to  mingle 
with  the  steam  and  become  dissipated  in  the  upper  air. 
From  the  summit  of  the  pass  an  extensive  view  of 
the  Myvatns  Oraefa,  Desolate  Lava  of  Myvatn,  is  ob- 
tained towards  the  northeast.  It  is  a  trackless  ruin 
wrought  by  the  combined  labors  of  several  volcanoes 
and  contains  no  vegetation  save  patches  of  lichens  that 
nourish  a  small  herd  of  reindeer.  At  the  foot  of  the 
slope  upon  which  we  halted  a  vast  plain  spreads  out 
into  the  Oraefa.  This  plain  is  covered  with  a  thin 
crust  of  chemical  earths  which  rest  upon  a  substratum 
of  viscid,  hot  and  sulfur-permeated  clay.     At  the  mar- 

229 


23o  ICELAND 

gin  we  left  the  ponies  and  ventured  cautiously  upon 
the  crust,  recalling  the  experience  of  Dr.  Hooker  in  a 
similar  situation  at  Krisuvik,  where  he  nearly  lost  his 
life  by  sinking  into  the  hot  mass.  The  crust  will  sup- 
port the  curious  traveller  if  he  is  sufficiently  cautious 
in  choosing  his  route  by  sounding  the  shell  in  front 
of  him  with  a  staff.  It  reminded  me  of  an  experience  I 
had  when  a  boy  in  watching  my  father  cross  a  river 
upon  thin  ice,  where  he  sounded  the  ice  step  by  step 
in  advance  with  the  pole  of  his  axe  while  I  followed 
with  great  temerity  over  the  cracking  ice.  As  I  ex- 
pressed my  fear  of  breaking  through,  he  replied,  "it 
will  hold  as  long  as  it  cracks."  And  so  with  the  sul- 
fur crust  above  the  seething  furies,  "it  will  hold  as 
long  as  it  cracks."  Woe  to  him  who  fails  to  sound 
this  undulating  crust  before  his  advancing  steps!  All 
of  this  crust  is  composed  of  sublimated  chemicals 
brought  to  the  surface  by  the  superheated  gases.  The 
crystals  are  various  in  form  according  to  their  chemical 
constituents  and  together  they  present  a  discordant  color 
scheme,  much  like  a  painter's  palette  where  the  various 
color  daubs  have  run  together.  As  one  crunches  the 
crystals  beneath  his  feet  he  has  the  sensation  of  walk- 
ing with  hob-nails  through  a  jeweller's  showcase. 

This  Arctic  Phlegethon  is  mottled  with  pits  of  boil- 
ing bolus.  There  are  four  principal  groups  of  these 
mud  cauldrons,  each  in  a  basin  of  baked  mud,  elevated 
a  few  feet  above  the  level  of  the  plain.  In  19 10  one 
of  these  groups  contained  seven  cauldrons,  the  largest 
being  thirty  feet  in  diameter.  The  cauldrons  are  not 
permanent  but  crust  over  from  time  to  time  and  new 
ones  form  in  the  adjacent  areas.  The  mud  rises  slowly 
in  a  gigantic  bubble,  like  the  sticky  bubbles  on  the  sur- 
face of  hot  molasses  candy,  until  the  gas  pressure  is 
sufficient  to  burst  the  film,  when  a  cloud  of  gases  sud- 
denly shoots  upward,  a  hot  shower  of  mud  is  ejected 


KRAFLA  231 

and  then  the  entire  mass  slides  back  into  the  bowels  of 
the  earth  with  a  horrid,  sickening  gasp.  It  is  now 
safe  to  mount  the  rim  and  watch  the  mass  as  it  slowly 
wells  upwards  for  another  display.  Standing  in  a  bath 
of  vapors  one  looks  backward  over  the  track  whence 
he  came  and  notes  tiny  columns  of  steam  marking  the 
trail  along  which  he  so  recently  advanced.  Every  place 
in  the  crust  that  was  punctured  with  the  staff  is  slowly 
changing  into  a  cauldron  like  the  one  at  his  feet  and 
the  traveller  experiences  a  sensation  of  uneasiness, 
knowing,  as  he  does,  that  in  a  brief  time  a  new  line 
of  cauldrons  will  be  in  operation  and  for  the  first  time 
he  fully  realizes  the  insecurity  of  his  position  and  he 
longs  for  the  solidity  of  the  lava  ridge  where  he  left 
the  hobbled  ponies. 

Because  it  suggests  the  food  that  may  be  provided 
for  the  guests  of  the  Inferno,  the  Icelander  has  named 
the  material  within  the  smoking  cauldrons  "hell-broth" 
and  the  name  can  not  be  improved.  They  boil  and 
splutter,  spatter  and  emit  abundant  volumes  of  steam 
and  make  a  great  fuss  over  the  little  matter  of  a  solid 
nature  that  is  ejected.  These  spiteful  explosions  are 
worthy  of  greater  results. 

"And  still  the  smouldering  flame  lurks  underground 
And  tosses  boiling  fountains  to  the  sky." 

For  two  hours  we  wandered  among  the  fumaroles 
and  fountains  of  seething  mud.  Oftentimes  the  crust 
cracked  viciously  beneath  our  feet  and  we  retreated 
precipitously  to  a  thicker  portion  of  the  shell  which 
covers  this  vast  subterranean  lire.  It  gave  us  much 
amusement  to  plug  up  the  orifices  of  the  small  fumar  >Ies 
with  plastic  clay  and  sulfur  and  to  wait  for  them  to 
burst  forth  spitefully  and  hurl  out  a  shower  of  scorch- 
ing mud. 

Following  a  narrow  sheep  trail  between  the  edge  of 


232  ICELAND 

the  lava  and  the  high  ridge  that  connects  Ndmarskard 
with  Leimukr  and  Krafla,  we  arrived  at  a  lonely  spot, 
a  deserted  Icelandic  farm  with  tumbled  down  build- 
ings, which  gave  evidence  of  having  been  a  prosperous 
stead  before  the  lava  flood  spread  its  fiery  wings  over 
the  valley.  Here  we  paused  for  lunch.  Among  our 
steamer  gifts  was  a  package  which  was  marked  for  us  to 
open  some  day  when  we  desired  a  change  from  our 
regular  fare.  We  put  it  into  our  hamper  that  morn- 
ing and  rejoiced  to  find  a  bottle  of  delicious  olives 
We  washed  down  this  lunch  with  acid  water  from  the 
brook,  which  we  later  found  to  have  its  origin  in  one 
of  the  craters  of  Krafla.  On  our  return  from  the  sum- 
mit, the  ponies,  who  had  had  no  water  for  several  hours, 
went  eagerly  to  this  brook  but  after  one  taste  they 
trotted  along.  Curious  to  know  why  they  would  not 
drink  since  they  had  freely  done  so  in  the  morning,  I 
dismounted  and  tasted  the  water.  It  had  become  much 
more  acid  and  I  could  account  for  it  only  by  suppos- 
ing that  a  larger  volume  than  usual  had  issued  from  the 
crater  and  that  there  had  been  less  snow  water  for  its 
dilution  than  when  we  had  lunched. 

The  climb  soon  began  in  earnest.  In  a  long  series 
of  zigzag  curves  we  crossed  ridge  after  ridge  of  sticky 
clay  interspersed  with  volcanic  ash  and  pumice.  Hav- 
ing gained  the  summit  of  the  ash  ridges  we  photo- 
graphed the  distant  peak  of  Krafla,  traversed  a  bit  of 
high  moorland  containing  a  small  crater  lake  of  blue 
water,  entered  a  sheltered  valley  betwen  the  upper  peak 
of  Krafla  and  Hrafntinnuhryggr,  Raven-Peaks-Back, 
a  ridge  of  obsidian  or  Icelandic  agate.  Enormous 
masses  of  jet  black  obsidian  of  the  purest  form  rise 
from  this  ridge  and  millions  of  these  glass  boulders 
are  piled  in  a  talus  at  the  base  of  the  cliffs.  I  secured 
an  excellent  specimen  seven  inches  in  diameter,  pointed 
at  one  side  and  with  a  beautiful  and  double  conchoidal 


KRAFLA  233 

fracture  for  the  science  museum  at  Springfield,  Mass. 

We  left  the  tired  ponies  to  graze  in  the  bit  of  grass 
while  we  made  the  final  ascent  of  the  mountain,  which 
is  far  above  the  craters.  The  slope  is  steep  and  is 
clothed  with  a  thick  mat  of  birches  to  the  very  edge 
of  the  snow  in  the  ravine.  These  birches  are  so  small 
that  an  entire  tree,  roots,  stem,  leaves  and  catkin  may 
be  placed  upon  a  five  cent  piece  without  projecting. 
We  saw  many  tracks  of  reindeer  and  picked  up  a  fine 
set  of  antlers  of  the  last  casting.  The  herd  of  these 
animals  in  the  vicinity  of  Krafla  is  thriving  as  they  are 
undisturbed  by  the  natives. 

On  the  very  tip-top  of  the  mountain  we  erected  a 
cairn  and  deposited  a  record  of  our  ascent  in  a  metal 
cylinder.  We  then  photographed  the  official  flag  of 
the  Arctic  Club  of  America  and  examined  the  broad 
and  horrent  country  surrounding  the  base  of  this  vol- 
cano. Before  I  went  to  Iceland  my  mountain  climb- 
ing had  been  confined  to  the  mountains  of  New  Hamp- 
shire, where  a  magnificant,  virgin  forest  clothes  the 
middle  and  lower  slopes.  To  stand  upon  any  moun- 
tain in  Iceland,  with  White  Mountain  impressions  in 
the  mind,  and  gaze  at  the  barrenness  of  the  surround- 
ing country  affords  the  greatest  possible  contrast. 

The  view  from  the  summit  of  Krafla  is  imposing 
but  not  so  extensive  as  from  Hekla.  Unlike  Hekla 
the  craters  are  on  the  slope  and  far  below  the  summit. 
The  top  of  Krafla  is  a  jumbled  mass  of  disintegrating 
granophyre.  The  view  down  the  eastern  slope  and 
across  the  intervening  space  to  Letrnukr  is  plutonic  and 
exceedingly  wild.  In  the  distance  a  mass  of  lava  hangs 
upon  the  side  of  Letrnukr  like  a  petrified  waterfall, 
nearer  and  on  the  middle  slopes  of  Krafla  are  several 
old  craters  filled  with  water  from  which  columns  of 
steam  continually  ascend.  One  of  them  is  a  double 
crater  with   confluent  edges.      It  is   filled   with   water 


234  ICELAND 

which  boils  violently  along  the  side  next  to  the  summit 
of  the  mountain.  The  craters  are  at  an  elevation  of 
1700  feet  above  sea  level  and  in  the  days  when  Hen- 
derson visited  them  they  were  in  a  violent  state  ot 
action.  On  July  15,  19 10,  we  found  them  provokingly 
quiet.  At  some  distance  down  the  mountain  below  the 
crater  lakes  there  is  a  great  rift  cutting  deeply  into  the 
side  of  the  mountain.  Here  we  found  considerable  ac- 
tivity. The  cleft  was  so  filled  with  clouds  of  steam 
that  my  photograph  of  it  reveals  little  except  the  belch- 
ing vapors.  If  I  had  had  a  phonograph  I  could  have 
brought  home  a  record  of  growling,  roaring,  impatient 
muttering  that  burst  into  explosive  thunders  that  would 
have  been  of  scientific  interest  at  least  if  not  to  the 
popular  ear.  The  odors  of  sulfur  gases  were  sufficiently 
strong  to  stifle  any  one  except  a  chemist  accustomed  to 
the  fragrance  of  the  laboratory.  If  I  had  had  an  in- 
strument to  record  odors  I  could  have  brought  away 
a  collection  of  these  simple  and  multiple  combinations 
of  smells  that  would  have  startled  the  dullest  of  ole- 
factory  nerves.  The  name  of  this  rift  in  Icelandic  is 
Vitiy  signifying  Hell,  well  named. 

Krafla  is  not  dead,  merely  sleeping.  In  the  past 
centuries  it  has  wrought  great  havoc.  The  eruption  of 
May  17,  1724,  was  so  violent  that  the  ashes  and  pumice 
on  the  eastern  shore  of  Myvatn  were  deposited  to  a 
depth  of  over  three  feet.  The  connection  between 
Krafla  and  Leirniikr  is  close,  in  reality  they  are  one 
volcano  with  different  craters.  Leirnukr  had  a  violent 
eruption  in  1725,  to  which  reference  was  made  in  the 
preceding  chapter,  and  during  the  following  four  years 
there  were  three  more  eruptions  that  did  great  damage. 

The  extended  view  from  Krafla  is  desolate  and  dreary 
in  the  extreme.  When  the  eye  ranges  beyond  the  smok- 
ing slopes  of  mighty  Krafla  it  meets  the  greatest  lava 
desolation   in   the   north  of  Iceland.      In   the   distance 


KRAFLA  235 

flashes  of  the  Jokulsd,  Ice-Mountain-River,  are  seen  as 
it  labors  through  the  twisted  lava  to  plunge  into  the 
abyss  of  the  Dettifoss.  The  southern  view  commands 
the  low  volcanoes  surrounding  Myvatn.  To  the  left 
rises  the  obsidian  mountain  and  at  our  very  feet  ascend 
the  roaring  columns  out  of  Vit'i  to  their  dissipation  in 
the  upper  air. 

Descending  to  our  ponies  we  decided  to  traverse  the 
unexplored  portion  of  the  mountain  by  a  spiral  route. 
We  soon  became  entangled  in  an  intricate  mesh  of  deep, 
soft  gullies.  The  great  depth  of  these  gullies,  the 
ridges  of  dry  ashes  that  surmounted  them,  the  steep, 
viscid  slopes  and  the  beds  filled  with  running  water  hot 
and  odorous,  wherein  a  peculiar  alga  thrives,  and  the 
intervening  reaches  of  slumpy  snow  afforded  us  two 
hours  of  very  laborious  work.  Cautiously  we  proceeded, 
leading  the  ponies,  searching  for  places  to  descend 
the  slopes  and  then  working  much  harder  to  get  out 
of  the  ravine,  only  to  find  it  necessary  to  repeat  the  per- 
formance many  times.  The  trusting  beasts  followed 
our  ignominious  slides  into  the  gulches  and  after  much 
coaxing  managed  to  scramble  up  after  us  into  the  dry 
ashes  at  the  top.  We  photographed  these  gullies,  de- 
scended to  the  sheep  trail  and  after  three  and  one  half 
hours  of  hard  riding  returned  to  our  comfortable  quar- 
ters at  Reykjalid  farm,  where  we  did  ample  justice  to 
the  supper  which  the  farmer's  daughter  had  prepared 
for  us.  On  the  menu  was  an  excellent  item  that  was 
new  to  us,  a  sweet  purple  soup. 

The  minerals  and  lava  specimens  that  I  had  col- 
lected up  to  this  time  were  packed  and  left  with  the 
farmer  who  engaged  for  a  kroner  to  transport  them  to 
Husavik  when  he  went  to  this  trading  station  in  the 
autumn.  In  due  course  of  time  the  box,  which  I  had 
left  to  his  care,  arrived  safely  in  Springfield, — another 
instance  of  the  faithfulness  of  the  Icelander  in  keeping 


236  ICELAND 

his  word.  The  reader  will  note  the  difference  in  the 
cost  of  packing  a  box  of  seventy-five  pounds  on  the  back 
of  a  pony  for  two  days  and  the  tariff  of  the  Express 
Companies  of  America. 

On  the  morrow  we  rode  through  the  lava  beds  that 
fringe  the  eastern  shore  of  Myvatn  just  after  a  clearing 
shower  and  the  sunlight  upon  the  crater  islands,  the 
lichen-encrusted  lava  ridges  and  the  play  of  light 
upon  the  water  of  the  land-locked  pools  was  of 
surprising  beauty.  As  we  neared  Kdlfstrond,  Calf- 
Strand,  an  Icelandic  shepherd  dog  ran  out  to  meet 
us  and  gave  a  noisy  welcome.  For  the  size  of 
the  dog  the  Iceland  variety  has  the  strongest  lungs 
of  any  member  of  the  canine  family.  They  will 
run  for  half  a  mile  to  meet  the  traveller  yelping 
and  crying  and  will  often  follow  him  for  miles 
after  leaving  the  farm.  One  of  these  fluffy  balls  of 
animation  stayed  with  us  for  several  days  and  resisted 
all  our  efforts  to  leave  him  behind.  We  left  him  in 
a  stable  with  instructions  to  keep  him  till  some  one 
returned  to  the  farm  from  whence  he  had  run  away 
but  at  noon  as  we  were  fording  a  river  he  joyously 
arrived.  The  cold  stream  was  no  obstacle,  he  was  the 
first  on  the  opposite  shore  and  stayed  with  us  until  we 
arrived  at  Reykjavik.  He  lost  no  opportunity  to  get 
into  our  room  at  the  hotel,  invariably  found  us  if  we 
went  for  a  walk  and  when  we  pushed  from  the  landing 
in  a  small  boat  to  go  out  into  the  stream  to  board 
our  steamer  for  home,  he  jumped  from  the  wharf  into 
the  boat  and  stuck  to  us  till  we  ascended  the  gang 
plank  and  as  the  boat  pulled  ashore  he  gave  one  long 
and  mournful  cry.  My  heart  has  often  turned  to- 
wards the  faithfulness  and  the  attachment  of  this  little 
fellow  and  often  do  I  wonder  if  he  is  following  the 
sheep  over  his  native  hills  forgetful  of  the  summer's  es- 
capade when  he  ran  away  to  associate  with  strangers. 


KRAFLA  237 

Beneath  the  lava  ridges  great  streams  of  water  from 
the  neighboring  mountains  pour  into  the  lake  and 
around  these  inlets  there  is  always  excellent  trout  fish- 
ing. The  trout  are  large  and  abundant.  Between  the 
lake  and  Hverfjall  the  lava  is  rifted  into  deep  ravines 
and  mighty  cliffs  which,  in  their  castellated  and  archi- 
tectural forms,  coated  with  lichens,  present  more  the 
appearance  of  being  the  handiwork  of  man  than  that 
of  subterranean  powers  assisted  by  the  frosts  of  time. 
Little  imagination  is  necessary  to  view  in  this  mass 
of  plutonic  rock  the  Gothic  arches  of  a  long  deserted 
cloister,  and  in  that  pile  of  ragged  crust,  the  ramparts 
and  bastions  of  a  mediaeval  fortress.  Lofty  piles  stand 
side  by  side  upon  the  plain  suggestive  of  triumphal 
arches  whose  capstone  has  fallen  to  the  ground. 

On  arriving  at  Skutustadir  we  found  that  Baron  Klin- 
ckowstrom,  his  son  Harald  and  Walter  Friedeberg, 
whom  we  had  met  on  the  Botnia,  had  arrived  and 
established  themselves  in  the  Thinghus.  Here  they 
were  busy  in  preparing  bird  skins  for  museums  in  Stock- 
holm, Berlin,  and  the  private  collection  of  Harald.  It 
was  a  pleasure  to  see  a  youth  like  Harald  cling  for 
hours  to  the  trying  labor  of  preparing  bird  skins. 
Later  I  examined  his  large  and  excellent  collection  of 
mounted  birds  at  his  father's  castle  at  Stafsund  near 
Stockholm  and  I  could  not  help  admiring  the  energy 
and  perseverance  of  the  youth  as  well  as  the  skill  mani- 
fest in  mounting  this  collection,  all  of  which  was  the 
work  of  his  unaided  hands.  The  boy  with  a  purpose, 
who  lives  largely  in  the  open,  even  though  he  mav  be 
deprived  of  the  university,  is  sure  to  obtain  a  most 
liberal  education,  an  education  that  comes  through  the 
eye  and  is  augmented  by  thought.  Later,  when  I  had 
had  a  chance  to  study  the  daily  life  of  a  boy  in  the 
public  schools  of  Sweden  and  draw  a  comparison  with 
that  of  an  American  youth,  I  understood  how  that  lit- 


238  ICELAND 

tie  country  of  mountains  and  lakes  had  produced  so 
many  remarkable  men,  such  as  Berzelius,  Linnaeus, 
Bergman,  Scheele  and  Arrhenius.  It  is  the  spirit  that 
dominates  the  boy  in  successful  education,  not  the 
special  advantages  of  his  equipment. 

We  had  planned  to  leave  Skutustadir  at  eight  in  the 
morning  but  it  was  one  in  the  afternoon  when  we  parted 
from  our  genial  host.  His  little  daughter  opened  the 
tun  gate  and  we  rode  out  upon  the  great  heath  which 
reaches  from  Myvatn  to  Ljosavatn.  The  great  delay 
was  caused  by  the  straying  of  the  ponies.  A  week  be- 
fore I  had  swapped  a  pony  with  the  farmer  at  Ljosa- 
vatn. The  pony  had  taken  it  into  his  wise  little  head 
to  return  to  his  old  home  without  the  trouble  of  carry- 
ing his  pack  and  he  was  followed  by  three  of  our  rid- 
ing ponies.  It  was  several  hours  before  Olafur  over- 
took them  and  returned  to  the  lake.  The  innumerable 
midges  around  the  lake  greatly  annoy  the  ponies  and 
often  cause  them  to  wander.  Sometimes  they  are  so 
violently  attacked  by  swarms  of  these  insects  that  they 
will  rush  headlong  into  the  water  to  rid  themselves  of 
their  tormentors.  When  the  grass  is  good  and  the  wind 
and  midges  do  not  annoy,  they  do  not  wander  but  graze 
quietly  during  the  night  and  are  easily  captured  when 
wanted.  A  child  with  a  string  will  go  to  the  grazing 
land,  fasten  it  around  the  lower  jaw  of  one  of  the 
ponies,  mount  and  drive  the  troup  to  the  farm  house  to 
be  saddled.  It  is  never  necessary,  as  it  often  is  in  New 
England,  to  spend  an  hour  to  coax  a  horse  with  a  meas- 
ure of  grain.  The  Icelandic  horse  is  a  type  peculiar  to 
the  country.  He  is  the  descendant  of  the  Scandinavian 
steed  taken  to  that  country  centuries  since  by  the  early 
settlers.  He  has  become  thoroughly  inured  to  the  con- 
ditions and  has  developed  characteristics  not  found  in 
any  other  breed  of  horses.  His  weight  is  from  <;oo  to 
600  pounds,  though  some  run  a  little  heavier.     The 


Flag  of  the  Arctic  Club  of  America  on  the  Summit 

of  Krafla. 


Obsidian  Ridge,  Hrafntinnuhryggr,  near  Summit  of 

Krafla. 


KRAFLA  239 

mane  is  very  thick  and  long;  the  tail  is  a  great  brush 
about  ten  inches  in  diameter  and  unless  clipped  drags 
upon  the  ground.  In  the  driving  wind,  rain  or  sleet, 
the  pony  turns  his  tail  to  the  storm  and  with  lowered 
head,  if  untethered,  walks  out  the  gale.  The  wind 
spreads  the  thick  hair  over  his  hips  and  even  though 
matted  upon  the  surface  with  sleet  it  becomes  an  ad- 
mirable protection.  The  hair  of  the  tail  is  very  long 
and  is  used  by  the  farmers  for  making  ropes  to  bind 
hay.  The  horses  are  well  built,  usually  fat,  free  from 
blemishes,  slender  in  the  legs,  wide  between  the  eyes, 
broad  backed  and  deep  chested.  Their  sagacity  is  re- 
markable. In  fording  rivers,  in  crossing  the  ragged 
lava,  in  picking  their  way  over  stone-strewn  heaths, 
across  quaking  bogs,  or  in  the  rugged  defiles  or  on  the 
precipitous  slopes  of  the  trailless  mountains,  they  are 
the  wisest,  kindest,  surest  and  the  finest  saddle  horses. 
The  endurance  of  these  little  steeds  is  a  continual  sur- 
prise to  the  stranger.  In  the  bogs  and  in  rubble  rid- 
ing they  are  extremely  cautious  and  if  they  are  allowed 
to  negotiate  the  difficult  places  in  their  own  way,  will 
never  bring  the  rider  to  grief.  I  said  they  were  sure 
footed  and  the  fact  that  I  have  been  thrown  a  few  times 
is  not  contrary  to  the  statement.  When  a  pony  is  rid- 
den at  an  eight  mile  pace  down  a  declivity  thicklv 
strewn  with  loose  stones,  if  he  stumbles  three  times  a 
month  it  should  not  be  attributed  to  the  pony  as  a 
fault  but  rather  to  the  recklessness  of  his  rider.  Their 
living  is  obtained  entirely  out  of  doors.  In  the  spring 
the  young  horses  are  driven  into  the  mountains  where 
they  run  wild  until  late  in  the  autumn  when  thev  are 
taken  to  the  farm  for  the  winter.  It  is  only  occasionallv 
during  the  most  severe  portion  of  the  winter  that  they 
are  provided  with  hay  and  never  with  grain,  except 
work-horses  in  the  city.  "When  four  years  old  they  are 
broken  to  the  saddle.     There  are  about  50,000  ponies 


24o  ICELAND 

in  the  country  and  hundreds  are  exported  to  Denmark 
and  Scotland  yearly.  The  steamer  upon  which  we  re- 
turned from  Iceland  the  first  summer  carried  376 
ponies.  The  saddle  ponies  have  different  steps,  some 
amble,  some  trot,  some  gallop,  some  pace, — all  have  at 
least  two  of  these  methods  while  some  of  them  have 
all  of  these  methods  and  a  good  rider  can  take  his 
choice  or  have  his  pony  change  from  one  to  another. 

A  troup  of  ponies  on  a  journey  will  usually  stay  to- 
gether. Although  we  frequently  passed  through  moun- 
tain pastures  where  scores  of  horses  were  grazing,  we 
never  knew  one  of  our  ponies  to  leave  the  company  of 
his  own  companions.  On  arrival  at  a  farm  the  ponies 
are  led  with  a  string,  for  the  Icelander  is  jealous  of 
every  blade  of  grass  within  his  enclosure  and  it  is  a 
mark  of  discourtesy  to  permit  the  ponies  to  graze  about 
the  buildings.  The  best  ponies  are  raised  in  the  rich 
valleys  of  the  north  rivers  and  it  is  there  that  the  Ice- 
landic gentleman  goes  for  his  fancy  saddle  horse,  as 
the   Yankee   formerly  went  to   Kentucky. 

The  straying  of  the  ponies  is  not  the  only  cause  of 
a  late  departure  in  the  morning.  The  Icelander  is 
never  in  a  hurry.  Every  night  we  held  a  solemn  council 
with  the  guide  and  it  was  usually  agreed  that  we  would 
leave  at  nine  in  the  morning,  sometimes  the  time  set 
was  eight.  But,  if  the  ponies  had  not  strayed  then  it 
was  found  that  several  of  them  must  be  shod;  if  they 
did  not  need  shoeing  the  saddles  needed  attention;  if 
the  saddles  were  in  good  condition  then  the  morning 
coffee  was  late,  so  that  we  usually  started  two  hours 
after  the  appointed  time. 

The  best  advice  to  a  prospective  Yankee  in  Iceland 
is, — Do  not  fret.  Go  and  take  photographs  while  the 
ponies  are  being  saddled.  When  they  are  saddled  go 
and  take  some  more.  When  everything  is  ready,  start. 
To  the  nervous  and  rushing  American  this  is  an  un- 


KRAFLA  241 

usual  procedure.  But,  the  charm  of  Icelandic  travel 
is  the  abundance  of  time,  freedom  from  any  real  cause 
for  worry  and  the  knowledge  that  darkness  can  not 
overtake  the  summer  traveller,  no  matter  where  or 
when  he  travels.  There  is  also  the  certainty  that  he 
will  receive  a  cordial  reception,  no  matter  when  he  ar- 
rives. Impatient  Americans  need  a  summer  on  horse- 
back in  Iceland  to  curb  their  impetuosity. 

One  day  we  had  a  pleasant  experience  in  calling  at  a 
farm  house  where  lived  friends  of  our  guide.  We  were 
invited  into  the  guest  room  which  contained  a  narrow 
bed,  a  big  round  table  and  an  organ  made  in  Brattle- 
boro,  Vt.  Our  host  produced  the  usual  horn  of  snuff 
and  with  it  some  excellent  cigars.  He  then  played 
and  sang  to  us  in  Icelandic, — "There's  a  Land  that  is 
Fairer  than  Day."  He  wished  us  to  photograph  his 
children  but  their  mother  first  insisted  in  putting  them 
through  the  hair-combing  process.  After  this  they  were 
lined  up  in  front  of  the  house,  seven  in  a  row.  After 
repeated  efforts  on  the  part  of  the  older  ones  to  keep 
the  hands  of  their  babv  brother  out  of  his  mouth  the 
picture  was  taken  with  success.  The  mother  disap- 
peared for  half  an  hour  and  then  returned  with  coffee 
and  freshly  made  pancakes  rolled  in  sugar. 

The  host  and  hostess  then  showed  us  all  over  their 
house,  a  turf  structure  and  typical  of  the  older  houses 
in  the  country.  Such  farm  houses  contain  narrow,  win- 
dowless  corridors,  winding  in  labyrinthian  maze  from 
room  to  room.  In  this  house  one  passageway  led  to  a 
large  open  mound  where  a  fire  is  made  to  smoke  fish  and 
meat  and  incidentally  the  whole  house  and  evervthing  in 
it.  Another  passage  leads  to  the  real  kitchen  with  an  iron 
stove.  The  walls  are  all  of  turf  as  are  the  partitions 
and  the  roof,  with  just  enough  driftwood  in  the  roof 
to  make  a  framework  to  hold  the  turf  in  place.  Steep 
stairs  lead  to  the  baSstofa,  sleeping  apartment,  which 


242  ICELAND 

frequently  forms  the  sleeping  and  sitting  room  and  the 
common  work  room  of  the  entire  family,  especially  in 
winter.  Bunks  built  into  the  wall  extend  around  the 
room  and  are  frequently  filled  with  seaweed  or  feathers 
over  which  is  spread  a  fold  or  two  of  wadmal  and  a 
thick  coverlet  of  eider  down.  The  floor  of  the  bad 
stofa  is  of  boards  but  the  floors  down  stairs  are  fre- 
quently of  hard  earth  which  frequently  becomes  damp. 
From  the  ceiling  are  suspended  numerous  articles  of 
domestic  economy  while  large  chests,  ornately  carved, 
containing  clothing  and  valuables  are  scattered  through 
the  house. 

On  another  occasion  at  midnight  after  Mrs.  Russell 
and  I  had  retired,  the  hostess  came  into  the  guest  room 
and  asked  us  if  we  would  like  to  go  up  into  the  bad 
stofa  and  see  the  family  in  bed.  We  promptly  ac- 
cepted the  invitation  and  ascending  the  ladder  found 
the  family  abed,  head  to  foot,  separated  by  the  boards 
previously  described,  family  and  farm  hands,  men  and 
women,  children,  young  men  and  maidens,  each  asleep 
and  unconscious  of  our  intrusion.  This  has  been  the 
custom  of  centuries.  There  are  no  partitions,  no  dra- 
peries, and  there  is  no  false  modesty,  no  resulting  im- 
morality. The  marriage  vow  is  seldom  anticipated 
and  I  firmly  believe  the  degree  of  morality  is  higher 
in  this  land  than  in  any  other. 


CHAPTER  XV 

VATNSDALR 

"Day  long  they   fared   through   the   mountains,   and    that    highway's 

fashioner 
Forsooth  was  a  fearful  craftsman,  and  his  hands  the  waters  were, 
And  the  heaped-up  ice  was  his  mattock,  and  the  fire-blast  was  his 


nan." 


— Morris. 


DURING  the  summer  day  Akureyri  is  a  busy 
place.  It  is  the  emporium  of  the  north,  the 
resort  of  the  fishermen  from  the  northern 
waters  and  the  place  where  the  farmers  ot 
the  north  of  Iceland  exchange  their  produce  for  Euro- 
pean supplies.  The  city  is  comfortably  situated  at  the 
head  of  the  longest  fiord  in  Iceland.  There  is  one  street 
that  runs  between  the  water  and  the  high  hill  towards 
the  west.  The  population  is  about  1,500.  There  are 
several  shops  and  good  stores,  a  public  library.  Two 
newspapers  are  published  in  the  city.  There  is  a  high 
school  and  an  agricultural  college.  One  baker  in  the 
city  is  also  a  photographer  and  there  one  may  purchase 
a  photograph  or  a  cruller  over  the  same  counter. 

At  the  upper  end  of  the  street  there  is  a  commodious 
and  well  constructed  church.  Several  of  the  front 
yards  boast  fine  clumps  of  mountain  ash;  one  of  these 
tree  clumps  is  the  pride  of  the  city,  as  it  has  attained 
a  considerable  growth,  a  remarkable  size  for  this  ex- 
posure and  high  latitude.  Behind  the  street  on  the 
steep  hillside,  patches  of  potatoes  and  turnips  checker 
the  entire  bank  of  the  fiord  for  a  mile  or  more.  It  is  a 
pleasing  picture  when  contrasted  with  the  grimness  of 
the  ice-covered  ridges  beyond. 

There  is  a  spacious  hotel,  long  kept  by  an  eccentric 

243 


244  ICELAND 

Dane  by  the  name  of  Jensen.  It  has  recently  changed 
hands.  I  have  often  heard  it  stated  that  he  had  no  reg- 
ular scale  of  prices  but  charged  his  guests  according  to 
his  likes  or  dislikes.  If  the  guest  was  winning,  the 
genial  Dane  reduced  the  charge;  but  if  the  guest  had 
been  disagreeable,  or  in  any  way  did  not  appeal  to 
the  fancy  of  the  proprietor,  then  the  price  was  raised. 
Whatever  the  truth  of  the  report  may  be,  one  thing  is 
certain,  the  host  was  genial,  kept  a  good  house,  cared 
for  his  guests,  and  the  prices,  according  to  my  experi- 
ence, were  reasonable.  It  is  possible  that  his  philosophy 
was  correct,  that  the  guest  who  makes  unnecessary  de- 
mands or  is  difficult  to  please  should  be  the  one  to  pay 
the  extras,  while  the  guest  who  takes  what  is  provided, 
makes  no  special  demands,  considers  the  local  conditions 
which  obtain  and  demands  no  special  service  for  himself 
at  the  expense  of  other  guests,  should  be  favored  in 
the  reckoning.  I  think  Jensen's  method  is  correct.  How 
he  regarded  us  I  do  not  know;  suffice  it  to  state  that  we 
had  a  good  room  with  two  beds  and  excellent  food  in 
a  private  dining  room  with  the  best  of  attention  and 
that  our  bill  for  twenty-four  hours  was  only  the  equiva- 
lent of  two  dollars  for  both  of  us. 

There  was  one  exception  to  our  comfort  at  this  hos- 
telry, but  this  can  not  be  charged  to  the  eccentricity  of 
the  landlord.  My  bed  seemed  comfortable  when  I  re- 
tired, but  long  before  I  went  to  sleep  I  found  a  hard 
bunch  in  the  mattress  that  persisted  in  getting  between 
my  shoulders  no  matter  how  I  twisted  and  turned.  It 
was  a  narrow  bed  and  afforded  me  no  retreat  from  the 
offending  bunch.  I  rose,  stripped  the  bed,  instituted 
a  search  and  finally  ripped  open  the  mattress  at  the  cor- 
ner, worked  that  lump  to  the  slit  and  pulled  out  a 
rooster's  head  with  the  longest  bill  that  was  ever  pre- 
sented to  me  in  Iceland.  It  had  been  pecking  my 
shoulders   persistently   in   spite   of  the   fact  that   this 


VATNSDALR  245 

rooster  had  fought  his  last  fight  many  years  since.  If 
I  had  damaged  the  cover  a  little,  I  reasoned  that  I  had 
avenged  the  sleeplessness  of  many  a  former  occupant 
of  this  couch  and  was  rendering  a  good  service  to 
future  guests. 

Akureyri  is  the  home  of  the  venerable  poet,  Mat- 
thias Jockumsson,  born  in  1833,  a  lyric  poet  of  the 
highest  rank,  who  has  also  written  excellent  drama. 
It  was  our  pleasure  one  day  while  fording  the  Herad- 
svotn,  District-Waters,  to  meet  him.  Riding  off  the  lit- 
tle ferry  he  came  to  us  with  hat  in  hand  and  his  white 
locks  flowing  in  the  wind.  Holding  out  his  right  hand 
to  us  he  said, — 

"Welcome,  strangers,  to  Iceland!" 

At  the  far  end  of  the  city,  in  fact  a  continuation  of 
the  one  street,  is  Oddeyri,  Point  of  Land,  under  a 
different  political  jurisdiction  from  Akureyri.  It  is  a 
busy  place  in  the  whaling  and  herring  season  and  con- 
tains a  large  store  operated  by  the  Danish-Icelandic 
Trading  Company.  It  has  two  banks  and  has  recently 
become  the  center  of  the  shipping  interests  by  reason 
of  its  new  wharf  which  enables  steamers  to  discharge 
cargo  without  the  use  of  lighters.  The  curing  and 
rendering  establishments  in  this  town  will  repay  a  visit, 
unless  one  has  strong  olefactory  objections.  When  the 
wind  blows  up  the  fiord  there  is  no  doubt  as  to  the  use 
to  which  the  buildings  on  the  extreme  point  of  land 
north  of  the  pier  are  put. 

Leaving  Akureyri  we  followed  the  west  bank  of  the 
grand  Eyjarfjordr  till  we  arrived  at  the  Horgd,  Howe- 
River,  whence  we  looked  across  the  level  meadows  to 
the  former  location  of  the  Agricultural  College  at 
Modruvellir,  Madder- Valley.  The  college  is  now  lo- 
cated at  Akureyri.  It  is  sometimes  a  surprise  to  learn 
that  there  is  such  a  college  close  to  the  Arctic  Circle, 
but  it  has  a  good  reason  for  its  existence.    There  is  need 


246  ICELAND 

for  training  the  farmers  in  methods  of  cattle,  horse  and 
sheep  breeding,  especially  the  latter,  that  they  may  win 
the  best  possible  success  in  their  struggle  with  adverse 
conditions.  Jon  Hjaltalin  at  one  time  was  the  head 
master  of  this  school  and  he  also  did  service  in  Edin- 
burgh, Scotland,   as  a  librarian. 

The  view  across  the  valley  is  extensive  and  charm- 
ing because  the  rugged  and  ragged  features  of  the 
usual  Icelandic  landscape  are  softened  by  the  river 
winding  through  the  undulating  meadows  which  roll 
upwards  to  the  distance-softened  ridges,  while  yet  be- 
yond, the  crumbling  cinder  cones  melt  into  the  white- 
ness of  the  lofty  Vindheima  Jokull,  Wind-Home- 
Glacier,  and  flashing  in  the  sun, — 

"A  thousand  rills 
Come  leaping  from  the  mountain,  each  a  fay, 


Sweet  singing  then  ; 
'O  come  with  us  out  seaward,  come  away ! 


>  >> 


We  stopped  for  lunch  beside  a  singing  brook  flowing 
down  from  the  ridge  on  our  left  and  springing  into 
the  Horgd.  The  grass  was  in  excellent  condition  and 
the  ponies  grazed  as  if  they  had  knowledge  of  the 
poor  quality  of  this  necessity  and  its  scarcity  during 
the  following  days.  The  cotton  grass  spread  its  sheets 
of  pearly  white  around  us,  forget-me-nots  and  marguer- 
ites, the  wild  arnica  and  the  violets  reveled  in  the  glory 
of  their  bloom.  We  ate  our  lunch  and  reclined  upon 
the  grass  in  full  enjoyment  of  the  scene  and  recalled 
the  former  importance  of  this  valley.  It  is  as  beauti- 
ful today  as  when  the  Vikings  first  entered  it.  Since 
their  time  no  blasting  volcano  with  fiery  breath  has 
scorched  its  foliage  nor  poured  its  glinting  lava  in 
destructive  streams  over  the  meadows  and  humble 
homes.  The  days  of  feudal  strife  passed  with  the 
Christian  education  of  that  sturdy  race  and  the  peace  of 


VATNSDALR  247 

the  Cross  now  rests  upon  the  valley  like  the  "shadow 
of  a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land." 

The  time  of  its  literary  importance  passed  with  the 
decline  of  its  Abbey  and  the  passing  of  Sira  Jon  Thor- 
lakson,  the  Icelandic  Milton.  Across  the  river,  and 
shaded  by  a  noble  clump  of  the  mountain  ash,  stands 
the  home  of  this  venerable  poet  and  priest,  Bacgisd.  A 
century  ago  he  translated  Paradise  Lost,  Pope's  Essay 
on  Man,  portions  of  Shakespeare,  masterpieces  of  Ger- 
man and  Scandinavian  literature  into  the  Icelandic.  Be- 
sides being  a  translator,  he  composed  a  large  amount  of 
Icelandic  poetry  in  the  Eddie  phraseology  which  com- 
petent judges  say  equalled  and  often  surpassed  the 
masterpieces  of  the  ancient  scalds.  He  was  sorely  fet- 
tered by  poverty.  When  commenting  upon  the  high 
morality  of  his  race  and  the  great  freedom  from  the 
use  of  intoxicants  by  his  people  at  that  time  he  said, — 

"Our  poverty  is  the  bulwark  of  our  happiness.'1 

Again,  speaking  of  poverty,  the  common  lot  of  most 
poets  of  all  lands,  and  in  all  ages,  he  says,  literally  from 
one  of  his  poems, — 

"Ever  since  I  came  into  this  world,  I  have  been  wed- 
ded to  poverty,  who  has  hugged  me  to  her  bosom 
these  seventy  winters  all  but  two;  whether  we  shall 
ever  be  divorced  here  below,  is  only  known  to  Him 
who  joined  us  together." 

From  our  vantage  point  we  looked  down  upon  three 
beautiful  valleys  with  as  many  rivers  joining  to  form 
the  valley  of  the  Horgd  and  its  mighty  stream.  These 
are  the  H  or  gar  d  air,  OxnadaJr  and  Baegisddalr.  The 
mountains  rise  to  an  elevation  4000  feet  above  the  \  al- 
ley, capped  with  snow  or  perpetual  ice,  their  slopes 
slashed  into  wild  ravines  and  terraced  with  lava  cliffs 
down  which  course  numerous  cascades  from  the  melt- 
ing snows.  It  is  a  fair  and  peaceful  scene,  this  at 
our  feet:  it  is  a  grand  and  awesome  sight,  that  greets 


248  ICELAND 

the  lifted  eye. 

Fastening  forget-me-nots  into  the  manes  of  the  ponies 
we  resumed  our  ride  up  the  valley  and  turned  into  the 
Oxnadalr,  Ox-Valley.  It  is  a  fine  illustration  of  a 
glacial  valley.  The  cross  section  is  nearly  a  semi- 
circle and  the  sides  are  deeply  grooved;  the  glacial 
carving  is  much  more  pronounced  than  that  of  the 
lower  end  of  Seydisfjordr.  We  stopped  over  night  at 
Thverd,  Tributary-River,  in  a  humble  home  perched 
upon  the  steep  hillside  above  the  river  and  just  below 
the  ice  cliffs. 

Across  the  river  rise  the  Hraundrangar,  Lava  Pillars, 
which  tower  in  a  long  chain  of  spires  above  the  castellat- 
ed ridge,  a  prominent  feature  in  the  landscape  for  miles 
up  and  down  the  valley.  High  up  between  the  ridges 
there  is  a  sheet  of  water  which  pours  out  through  a 
small  rift  in  the  nearer  ridge  and  falls  into  the  valley 
as  if  some  Moses  had  smitten  the  lava  wall  with  his 
rod  of  wrath. 

We  enjoyed  our  stay  at  Thverd  and  experienced  sev- 
eral things  of  interest.  It  is  an  ancient  farm  located 
on  the  trail  through  the  defile  where  Icelanders  have 
passed  between  the  east  and  west  for  a  thousand  years. 
A  newly  wedded  couple  had  just  taken  up  their  abode 
under  the  paternal  roof  in  this  historic  spot  and  were 
beginning  the  problems  of  life  where  generations  of 
their  ancestors  had  solved  the  same  enigmas  with  the 
variations  which  the  succeeding  centuries  have  added. 
They  were  attentive  to  our  necessities  with  the  inborn 
hospitality  of  the  race  but  there  was  something  in  the 
atmosphere  that  revealed  the  newness  of  the  work  and 
the  shyness  of  the  wedded  couple  added  much  to  our 
amusement. 

During  the  week  the  rapidly  melting  snows  had  car- 
ried away  the  bridge  over  the  Thverd  and  we  found 
it  necessary  to  cross  the  torrent  on  a  stringer.     With 


Thverd,  a  Highland  Home  in  the  Oxnadalr 


V atnsdalsholar }  Numberless  Conical  Hills  in  Vatns- 

dalr. 


VATNSDALR  249 

a  little  coaxing  all  the  ponies  walked  across  except  our 
faithful  black  pack  pony.  Vexed  at  the  delay  in  re- 
moving his  packing  boxes,  and  anxious  to  be  with  his 
companions  grazing  on  the  opposite  bank,  he  ran  rap- 
idly up  and  down  the  stream,  repeatedly  trying  the  river 
for  a  place  to  ford  with  his  load  which  was  still  fastened 
to  the  saddle.  Olafur  was  on  the  opposite  side  resad- 
dling  the  other  ponies.  Old  Black  became  frantic, 
shook  himself  repeatedly,  ran  sideways  into  a  projecting 
rock  in  the  canyon  and  freed  himself  from  his  load; 
he  then  ran  to  the  stringer,  crossed  and  grazed  content- 
edly with  his  mates  and  in  positive  forgetfulness  of  the 
wreckage  he  had  left  strewn  upon  the  opposite  shore. 
The  cases  had  burst  open  and  their  contents  were  scat- 
tered along  the  sides  of  the  river  and  some  of  the 
items  were  actually  rescued  with  difficulty  from  the  run- 
ning water.  Fortunately  Old  Black  was  not  carrying 
my  photograph  outfit  that  morning  as  was  his  usual 
custom.  Again  in  19 13  in  my  crossing  of  the  interior 
of  Iceland  I  had  this  same  horse  and  of  all  the  pack 
ponies  which  I  have  used  during  my  four  different 
journeys  I  have  never  found  one  equal  in  value  to  this 
one.  His  peculiar  trait  was  to  pick  a  trail  for  himself 
and  his  intelligence  in  this  work  was  noteworthy.  He 
was  always  given  the  most  valuable  portion  of  my  load 
and  whether  in  the  bogs,  on  the  rough  mountains 
where  there  were  no  trails  or  in  the  fording  of  difficult 
rivers  he  was  always  worthy  of  the  trust  I  imposed  in 
him.  The  one  accident  mentioned  above  is  the  only  one 
he  has  had  in  his  long  years  of  service  as  a  pack 
pony. 

Clumps  of  mountain  ash,  in  Europe  called  rowan  tree, 
here  and  there  adorn  a  sheltered  spot  and  their  associa- 
tion with   the   angular  lava   recalled   to  my  mind  the 
hay  of  Gelrod,  a  kind  of  parable  concerning  the  fires 
of  Iceland.     Greatly  abridged  it  runs  as  follows : — 


250  ICELAND 

"Loki,  the  beguiler,  flew  away  one  day  in  quest  of 
adventures  in  Frigga's  falcon  dress.  He  flew  to  a  huge 
castle  over  the  sea  and  alighted  on  a  great  castle  and 
looked  into  the  hall.  Geirod  saw  him  and  ordered  him 
to  be  caught.  The  slave  climbed  the  wall  with  dif- 
ficulty and  Loki  laughed  to  see  the  labor  the  man  made. 
He  resolved  not  to  fly  till  the  slave  had  nearly  caught 
him.  He  waited  too  long,  as  he  spread  his  wings  to 
mount  to  the  next  height  and  lead  on  his  pursuer,  the 
slave  caught  him  by  the  feet  and  took  him  to  Geirod, 
the  giant,  who,  when  he  looked  at  him  believed  him  to 
be  a  human  and  not  a  real  bird.  He  bade  him  answer 
but  Loki  was  silent.  Loki  could  only  regain  his  lib- 
erty by  promising  the  giant  that  he  would  lure  Asa 
Thor  to  this  fastness  without  his  hammer.  Geirod 
was  sure  he  could  destroy  Thor  if  he  could  meet  him 
without  Thor  having  his  wonderful  hammer.  Loki 
beguiled  Thor  to  visit  Geirod  without  his  hammer;  but 
a  friendly  giantess,  Grida,  Grace,  in  whose  house  Thor 
lodged,  knowing  the  plot  of  Loki  and  Geirod,  loaned 
Thor  her  staff  and  iron  gauntlets." 

uThor  discovered  the  plot  and  in  trying  to  escape 
waded  the  sea,  whereupon  Gjdlf,  (din  or  roar  of 
ocean),  Geirod' s  daughter,  flung  the  waves  at  Thor. 
Thor  cast  a  rock  at  Gjdlf  and  he  never  missed  when 
he  cast  a  stone,  and  thus  with  stone  hurling  and  with 
the  aid  of  his  staff  and  gauntlets  he  reached  the  land. 
He  caught  hold  of  a  friendly  'rowan'  and  climbed  out 
of  the  water." 

Beause  of  this  myth  the  mountain  ash  has  ever  since 
been  sacred  to  Thor. 

Again  we  read: — 

"When  Thor  had  won  his  way  into  the  fire  castle," 
(this  doubtless  refers  to  the  fiery  lava  chambers  which 
occur  in  many  parts  of  Iceland),  "he  was  invited  to 
take  a  seat.     No  sooner  had  he  done  so  than  the  seat 


VATNSDALR  251 

flew  to  the  roof  of  the  hall,  where  Thor  would  have 
been  crushed  had  he  not  pushed  back  with  his  start 
which  the  giantess  had  given  him.  He  pressed  back 
so  effectively  that  he  slew  the  two  water-storm  daugh- 
ters of  Geirod,  who  had  tried  to  blow  him  into  the 
heavens." 

In  this  parable  the  reference  is  undoubtedly  to  the 
Geysir.     Thorns  next  foe  was  a  volcano. 

"Geirod  now  challenged  Thor  to  fight  in  the  hall 
lined  with  fire.  Thor  caught  the  red  hot  weapons  in 
his  iron  gloves  and  hurled  them  back  to  Geirod,  who 
vanily  crouched  beside  a  pillar  to  defend  himself.  But 
Thor  crushed  this  Demon  of  Underground  Fire  back 
into  the  black  rock  and  flung  the  fire  caverns  wide  open 
to  the  day." 

Such  is  the  ancient  legend  but  it  shows  how  legends 
are  founded  upon  facts  or  conditions,  which  may  be 
lost  for  centuries,  though  the  legends  may  remain  fjr 
us  to  scoff  at  when  we  do  not  know  the  foundation.  In 
this  instance  we  see  the  forces  of  water  and  fire  contend- 
ing with  humans,  a  never  ending  contest  between  the 
forces  of  destruction  and  the  powers  of  reason  and 
intelligence. 

At  the  head  of  the  Oxnadalr  we  stopped  at  the 
post  shelter  for  coffee  and  cakes  and  tinned  tongue. 
The  poor  little  farm  is  not  worthy  of  the  name  of  a 
farm.  It  is  just  a  bit  of  mountain  herbage  at  the 
borders  of  the  snows  and  screes  and  the  one  family 
could  not  survive  were  is  not  for  the  assistance  of  the 
government  in  order  that  a  shelter  for  the  post  car- 
riers and  chance  travellers  against  the  mountain  storms 
may  be  provided. 

I  swapped  a  pony  with  the  farmer  and  paid  him  a 
margin  of  two  dollars.  The  horse  I  traded  was  the 
same  that  I  had  received  in  a  similar  trade  at  Ljosavatn. 
The  farmer  carefully  examined  the  marks  in  the  ears 


252  ICELAND 

of  the  pony  and  stated  that  it  was  raised  on  this  same 
farm  and  had  now  got  home.  While  I  am  not  a  horse 
trader  and  know  none  of  the  intricacies  of  the  game 
and  had  no  way  to  learn  the  Icelandic  methods,  the 
satisfaction  I  got  from  this  pony  convinced  me  that 
the  best  of  the  bargain  was  mine.  While  the  Icelander 
is  noted  for  his  square  dealing  and  truthfulness  I  had 
often  wondered  what  he  would  be  like  in  a  horse  trade. 
The  pony  I  traded  had  a  quarter  crack  and  I  told 
(Mafur  to  point  this  out  to  the  farmer.  Clafur  skook 
his  head  and  said, — 

uHe  can  see  it  as  well  as  you." 

Later  I  asked  Clafur  about  this  and  enquired  how 
he  could  reconcile  it  with  the  proverbial  integrity  of 
his  people.     He  replied, — 

"But  this  was  a  horse  trade  and  every  man  must  sec 
what  he  is  buying  when  he  purchases  a  horse." 

In  connection  with  this  there  was  another  incident  of 
sharpness  that  came  to  my  attention  in  the  summer  of 
1913,  though  it  may  have  been  done  more  from  the 
love  of  a  joke  than  from  any  intention  to  defraud. 
The  Icelander  is  very  fond  of  a  joke,  especially  when 
at  the  expense  of  some  one  else.  The  steamship  com- 
pany trading  around  the  coast  advertises  "to  return 
empties  free  of  charge."  A  farmer  in  Borg  sold  a 
cow  to  a  man  in  Reykjavik  with  the  understanding  that 
the  skin  was  to  be  returned  to  him.  The  man  in 
Reykjavik  tied  up  the  skin  and  shipped  it  to  the  farmer 
in  Borg.  The  steamship  company  charged  the  farmer 
for  carrying  the  bundle.    The  farmer  replied, — 

"But  there  is  no  charge.  You  took  the  cow  to  Reky- 
javik  and  you  offer  to  return  'empties  free  of  charge* 
and  if  a  cow  skin  is  not  an  empty,  what  is  it?" 

Up  and  up  we  climbed  to  an  elevation  of  about  2,000 
feet  to  the  height  of  land,  the  watershed  between 
Skagafjordr,  Cape-Fiord,   and  Eyjafjordr.     The  ride 


VATNSDALR  253 

down  the  valley  towards  the  west  is  wild  in  the  ex- 
treme. The  trail  passes  through  a  long  mountain  pas- 
ture where  we  encountered  about  one  hundred  young 
ponies,  thence  along  the  edge  of  a  chasm  so  deep  that 
the  tumbling  of  the  water  in  the  bed  came  up  to  us  only 
as  a  murmur.  On  our  right  rose  impassable  cliffs 
and  rubble  screes  and  it  was  along  this  talus  of 
rolling  material,  composed  of  disintegrating  lava 
and  sand,  that  we  made  our  way.  There  are 
places  where  a  false  step  or  a  small  avalanche  would 
sweep  horse  and  rider  into  the  depths  of  the  chasm. 
When  the  canyon  widened,  the  green-white  of  the  wa- 
ter flashed  up  to  us  like  masses  of  liquid  emerald.  The 
trail  improved  as  we  descended  and  the  declivity  be- 
came less  precipitous;  having  a  long  distance  ahead  of 
us  we  gave  the  ponies  a  free  bit  and  away  we  went  in  a 
joyful  gallop  down  the  grade.  We  had  been  discussing 
the  prospects  of  a  tumble  a  few  moments  before  when 
on  the  edge  of  the  cliff  but  now  all  fear  had  vanished. 
My  pony  stumbled  on  some  small  stones  and  I  shot  over 
his  head  much  to  the  amusement  of  my  companion. 
Mrs.  Russell  was  following  at  this  point.  Scarcely  had 
I  regained  my  seat  in  the  saddle  and  reined  in  to  the 
rear  when  her  pony  stumbled  and  threw  her  in  a  similar 
manner.  She  was  not  hurt.  This  was  my  second  and 
her  first  tumble  during  the  two  summers  of  riding,  so 
she  held  up  two  fingers  to  me  from  time  to  time.  She 
was  laughing  at  my  poor  horsemanship  and  I  pushed 
on  to  the  head  of  the  train.  A  great  raven  perched  on 
a  lava  point  was  croaking  excitedly  and  it  seemed  to 
me  that  he  said,  "saw-you,  saw-you,  saw-you !"  Turn- 
ing to  look  at  this  fine  black  bird  I  saw  my  brave  com- 
panion trying  to  remount  from  a  second  tumble  with- 
out letting  me  know  of  it.  She  never  forgave  that 
raven,  for  if  he  had  not  notified 'me  of  the  mishap  she 
might  still  have  held  those  two  mocking  fingers  at  me. 


254  ICELAND 

Rapidly  we  descended  to  the  lower  valley  and  forded 
the  rapid  river.  Ravine  after  ravine  opened  into  the 
valley,  each  bringing  its  turbulent  stream  to  swell  the 
great  river  far  below  the  trail.  We  lingered  here  and 
there  to  examine  the  rocks  and  I  was  surprised  at  the 
outcroppings  of  copper  in  the  form  of  copper  carbonate. 
Zeolites  of  great  beauty  are  imbedded  in  the  lava  and 
I  have  often  longed  for  a  day  or  two  to  explore  some 
of  those  ravines  that  lead  from  this  pass.  There  are 
indications  of  considerable  copper  in  two  places  in  Ice- 
land and  since  Iceland  has  unlimited  water  power  for 
the  electrical  treatment  of  ore  some  one  will  soon  ascer- 
tain the  quantity  of  copper  present. 

As  the  valley  became  wider  it  turned  towards  the 
northwest  and  we  caught  glimpses  of  tiny  homes  on 
the  opposite  side  of  the  river.  Desolate  homes  are 
these  among  the  mountains,  far  away  from  neighbors. 
The  farmers  eke  out  a  bare  living  with  the  produce  of 
their  sheep.  Down  came  the  wind  in  mighty  gusts 
bringing  rain  and  mists  that  shut  out  all  distances.  The 
winds  came  directly  from  the  ice  sheets  and  as  the 
clouds  shut  out  the  sun  the  rain  soon  turned  to  a 
driving  sleet.  We  were  tired,  cold  and  hungry  and 
thoroughly  in  need  of  shelter.  The  top  of  a  tiny  spire 
showed  itself  through  the  mist  below  and  I  thought, 
"Miklebaer  at  last."  Olafur  dashed  our  hopes  by  say- 
ing that  this  farm  with  its  excellent  buildings  and  its 
hospitable  pastor  was  two  hours  ride  beyond  the  metal 
church  below  us.  He  urged  us  forward  but  I  refused 
as  it  was  not  possible  to  ride  further,  except  in  a  case  of 
life  or  death.  So  we  reined  into  the  ///;/  of  Silfrastacfir, 
Silver-Stead,  and  while  we  were  dismounting  a  man, 
blind  with  age,  tottered  towards  us  on  his  cane  and  ex- 
tended his  trembling  hand  and  in  the  Saga  phrase,  uhe 
greeted  us  well."     That  little  tumbled  down  home  in 


VATNSDALR  255 

the  mountain  pass,  that  small  bed  in  a  cupboard  in 
the  wall,  how  good  they  looked  to  us !  That  Icelandic 
welcome !  We  had  received  it  on  the  prosperous  farms 
and  in  the  city,  yes  in  the  more  favored  portions  of 
the  land,  even  in  the  home  of  the  Governor,  but  never 
before,  never  since,  has  any  abode  seemed  so  pleasant 
and  all  other  welcomes  at  home  and  abroad  shrink  in 
value  when  compared  with  the  welcome  and  the  cordial 
hospitality  of  this  poor  blind  man  of  Silfrastadir,  who 
gave  us  the  best  he  had  and  bade  us  "God  speed"  on 
the  morrow. 

During  the  night  our  ponies  ran  away  and  it  was  a 
long  time  before  Olafur  found  them.  They  were  go- 
ing, according  to  their  habit,  before  the  wind  and  were 
nearly  down  to  Miklebaer  when  the  guide  found  them. 
While  he  was  pony  hunting  I  repaired  to  the  little 
kitchen,  if  such  it  may  be  called,  and  over  a  fire  of  dried 
sheep  manure  made  some  coffee  and  with  the  provisions 
in  our  packing  boxes  we  made  a  good  breakfast.  We 
got  away  at  ten  thirty  and  soon  after  noon  arrived  at 
Miklebaer  and  turned  into  the  ///;/  enclosure  to  visit 
the  grave  of  Frederick  W.  W.  Howell,  F.  R.  G.  S. 
Howell  was  the  author  of  the  Pen  Pictures  of  Iceland. 
He  had  spent  many  summers  in  the  country  and  knew 
it  the  best  of  any  Englishman.  His  illustrations  are 
works  of  art  and  his  descriptions  of  natural  scenery 
are  faithful  and  full  of  appreciation.  Howell  was  the 
first  to  make  the  ascent  of  the  Oraefa  Jokiill,  6,400 
feet  in  height  and  the  highest  peak  in  Iceland.  This 
was  in  August  1891.  He  lost  his  life  in  fording  the 
Heradsvotn,  District-Waters,  a  broad,  swift  and  deep 
river  which  flows  through  the  valley  of  the  Skagafjordr. 
The  place  was  opposite  the  farm  of  Miklebaer.  This 
farm  belongs  to  the  church  and  within  its  cemetery  the 
unfortunate  Englishman  is  buried.     A  marble  memorial 


256  ICELAND 

marks  his   resting  place   and  bears  the   following  in- 
scription : — 

In  Loving  Memory 
of 
Frederick  W.  W.  Howell, 
r.   K.  Cj.  S. 
Who  Was  Called  to  His  Rest 
From  the  HeraSsvotn  River 
3d.  July  1 90 1 
Aged  44. 
"Asleep  in  Jesus,  Oh  What  Rest! 
So  them  also  which  sleep  in  Jesus 
Will  God  bring  with  Him." 

The  pastor  invited  us  into  his  study  and  refreshed  us 
with  coffee  and  cakes  and  conversed  with  us  in  German 
and  broken  English.  He  had  a  good  library  of  Eng- 
lish, German  and  Icelandic  works.  Our  stay  was  longer 
than  we  intended,  for  Clafur,  (this  time  it  was  a  young 
lady  and  not  the  ponies  that  caused  the  delay),  found 
a  fair  maiden  of  pleasing  conversation.  We  finally 
started  without  the  guide  and  later  when  he  had  over- 
taken us  at  the  fiord  and  I  teased  him  about  his  tardiness 
he  stated  that  the  maiden  asked  him  to  wait  while  she 
wrote  a  letter  to  a  friend  of  hers  in  Reykjavik  and 
requested  him  to  be  the  messenger.  It  must  have  been 
a  long  letter.  Had  he  collected  as  long  a  letter  from 
each  of  the  attractive  maidens  at  the  many  farms  where 
we  called  in  the  summer  of  19 10  he  would  have  had  a 
good  sized  mail  by  the  time  he  reached  the  capital. 

On  arrival  at  the  ferry  we  found  a  good  boat  into 
which  we  loaded  four  of  the  ponies  at  a  time  with  the 
packing  cases.  It  was  here  that  we  met  the  venerable 
poet,  Matthias  Jochumsson.  Remounting  we  crossed 
a  wonderfully  rich  grass  plain.  It  is  in  this  valley  that 
the  best  ponies  of  Iceland  are  bred.     Later  in  the  day 


VATNSDALR  257 

we  arrived  at  Fidimyri,  Wide-Bog.  Here  we  were 
fortunate  in  witnessing  a  pony-fair  at  which  hundreds 
of  ponies  changed  hands.  They  are  gathered  from  the 
mountains  for  sale  to  the  exporters  and  it  is  here  that 
the  Icelandic  gentleman  comes  for  his  private  saddle 
pony. 

Steadily  we  climbed  the  mountain  in  a  driving  wind 
with  some  rain.  The  wind  blew  cold  from  off  the 
Skagafjordr,  Cape-Fiord.  The  ocean  was  clear  and 
an  excellent  view  was  had  of  Drangey,  Lonely-Island. 
It  was  on  this  island  that  Grettir,  the  Strong,  the  fa- 
vorite hero  of  Iceland,  met  his  death  at  the  hands  of 
his  enemies.  He  had  been  an  outlaw  for  many  years. 
Sometimes  he  made  his  home  in  the  lava  waste  between 
Hoffs  Jokull  and  Lang  Jokull.  I  visited  the  cave  in 
1 9 13  which  is  marked  by  several  cairns.  At  one  time 
he  lived  at  Arnavatn,  Eagle-Lake  and  at  another  he 
dwelt  in  the  remote  fastness  of  Thorisdalr  at  the  south 
end  of  Lang  Jokull.  In  the  summer  of  19 13  I  went 
to  the  entrance  to  this  fastness.  It  is  the  finest  re- 
treat for  an  outlaw  that  any  country  could  possible  pro- 
vide in  its  natural  configurations.  The  Saga  of  Grettir 
relates  that  he  found  his  way  over  the  lava  wastes  of 
Skjalbreith,  Broad-Shield,  by  sighting  the  summit  of 
Skjalbreith  through  a  hole  in  a  block  of  lava  and  noting 
the  intervening  points  of  prominence.  In  the  old  days 
the  youth  of  Iceland  used  to  assemble  on  the  level  grass 
plain  at  the  extreme  northern  end  of  Thingvellir  during 
the  annual  meeting  of  the  Althing  to  hold  their  sports. 
At  one  time  Grettir  came  down  from  Thorisdalr  in 
disguise  and  entered  into  the  wrestling.  One  by  one 
he  threw  all  the  champions  from  the  different  sections 
of  Iceland  and  did  it  with  apparent  ease.  The  maidens 
sat  upon  the  high  conglomerate  knob  overlooking  the 
plain  and  saw  with  sorrow  their  respective  favorites 
beaten  in  the  feats  of  strength.     The  seat  upon  which 


25  8  ICELAND 

they  sat  is  known  as  Meijarsoeti,  Maidens'-Seat.  It 
was  not  till  Grettir  left  the  arena  and  climbed  the 
narrow  pass  which  runs  upward  beside  Meijarsoeti  that 
it  was  discovered  that  the  unknown  wrestler  was  in 
truth  Grettir,  though  some  of  the  wise  ones  had  hinted 
as  much. 

The  story  of  Grettir1  s  life  on  Drangey  is  of  great  in- 
terest but  too  long  for  a  full  recital.  If  the  reader  de- 
sires to  know  more  of  the  real  hero  of  Iceland  in  the 
old  days  and  the  one  most  often  mentioned  at  the  pres- 
ent time  he  should  read  the  Grettir  Saga.  It  will  give 
an  account  of  his  wanderings,  his  conflict  with  the  ghost 
and  his  harder  struggles  with  the  men  who  desired  to 
take  his  life  because  he  had  refused  to  leave  his  native 
land  after  the  Althing  had  outlawed  him  with  the 
greater  outlawry.  Drangey  is  an  island  in  the  middle 
of  the  great  fiord  and  the  sides  are  so  steep  that  it 
is  possible  to  ascend  only  at  one  place.  With  two  men 
he  took  up  his  abode  here  and  lived  upon  the  sheep 
which  the  farmers  had  put  upon  the  rock  for  summer 
pasture.  The  Saga  relates  that  on  a  Christmas  night 
his  fire  went  out  and  that  he  swam  to  the  mainland 
to  replenish  it.  He  entered  the  house  by  the  shore  and 
was  recognized  by  an  old  woman.  Several  men,  the 
foes  of  Grettir,  were  making  merry  in  an  adjoining 
room,  but  the  old  woman  pitied  him  and,  because  it 
was  Christmas  night,  gave  him  the  coals  and  allowed 
him  to  depart  in  peace.  Placing  the  fire  in  a  small 
kettle,  he  swam  back  to  Drangey  and  rekindled  the 
fire  in  his  stone  stove. 

The  temperature  was  only  three  degrees  above  freez- 
ing when  we  descended  the  western  slope  of  the  moun- 
tain and  arrivd  at  the  farm,  Bolstadarhlicf,  Wood-Farm- 
Slope.  There  was  a  long  delay  in  getting  supper  but 
it  came  at  last  in  the  shape  of  a  hot  lamb  stew  and  we 
were  provided  with  comfortable  beds.     We  were  told 


VATNSDALR  259 

that  in  the  morning  we  could  have  oatmeal  porridge, 
and,  since  it  had  been  many  days  that  we  had  had 
anything  of  this  nature,  we  looked  forward  with  pleas- 
ure to  the  breakfast.  Having  a  long  ride  before  us  on 
the  morrow,  we  solemnly  arranged  with  Olafur  to 
start  by  eight-thirty.  He  agreed  to  have  the  ponies  and 
the  cases  in  readiness.  We  had  often  held  these  solemn 
councils  but  a  stray  pony,  a  broken  pack  saddle,  a 
lost  shoe  or  some  other  quite  common  mishap  had  al- 
ways prevented  our  starting  before  one  to  three  hours 
after  the  appointed  time.  This  morning  it  was  not  the 
fault  of  Olafur  and  there  were  none  of  the  usual  causes 
of  delay.  It  was  that  oatmeal  porridge  and  even  the 
placid  guide  was  disturbed  at  the  delay.  Well,  at  ten 
we  sat  down  to  enjoy  that  oatmeal  with  real  thick, 
sweet  cream  in  abundance.  The  combination  was  de- 
licious as  the  oatmeal  was  thoroughly  cooked.  Then, 
I  pulled  out  a  long  black  hair  and  carefully  concealed 
the  presence  of  it  from  my  companion.  Soon  I  found 
another  and  this  one  was  white.  I  could  no  longer  re- 
frain from  communicating  my  discoveries  and  so  I 
stated : — 

"I  have  discovered  exactly  how  long  this  oatmeal 
was  cooked." 

"Well,  how  long  was  it  cooked  and  why  this  smile?" 

I  replied, — "The  woman  who  started  to  prepare 
this  porridge  had  black  hair,  but  when  she  had  finished 
it  her  hair  had  turned  white." 

After  a  short  ride  we  came  to  the  Blatida,  Mingled- 
Waters,  which  was  so  swollen  that  it  was  necessary  for 
us  to  proceed  to  the  mouth  of  the  river  at  Blonduos 
where  there  is  a  substantial  bridge.  The  ride  from  this 
trading  village  south  to  the  farm,  Hnausar,  Rough- 
Ground,  was  in  a  hard  rain  with  the  thermometer  at 
one  degree  above  freezing  and  with  occasional  gusts 
of  snow  that  swept  down  from  the  ridge  at  our  right 


26o  ICELAND 

with  the  howling  wind.     With  our  heads  bowed  low 
over  the  saddle   and  the  wind  at  our  backs  we  saw 
little  of  the  valley  save  that  at  the  feet  of  the  ponies. 
The  wind  increased  and  the  storm  drove  up  the  valley 
from  the  Arctic  Ocean  with  sufficient  violence  to  drive 
from  our  minds  everything  save  thoughts  of  a  shelter. 
At  seven-thirty  we  halted  at  the  gate  of  the  tun  while 
(Mafur  sought  the   bonde  to  ask  the   customary  ques- 
tions about  food,  shelter  and  grass  for  the  ponies.     I 
have  never  had  the  request  refused  but  politeness  de- 
mands that  the  traveller  remain  without  the  turf  wall 
until  the  request  is  made  of  the  farmer,  or  if  he  is 
absent,  of  his  wife  or  oldest  son.     The  Icelander  with- 
in his  turf  wall  is  like  a  baron  in  his  castle  and  as  such 
must  be  recognized.     Once  the  questions  are  asked  the 
request  is  granted  and  the  traveller  then  is  placed  at 
ease  with  all  the  freedom  that  is  necessary. 

The  good  wife  built  a  fire  of  turf  and  sheep  manure 
in  the  tall  Norwegian  stove  in  the  guest  room,  took 
all  our  wet  clothing  to  her  kitchen  to  dry  and  prepared 
for  us  a  satisfying  and  tasty  supper.  She  kept  the  fire 
replenished  till  midnight  and  I  remember  no  fire  that 
seemed  so  good  as  this  one.  Before  the  fire  was  built 
and  we  stood  about  the  cold  stove  with  chattering  teeth 
I  knew  something  of  how  Grettir  felt  when  he  dis- 
covered that  all  his  coals  had  turned  to  ashes  out  there 
on  Drangey. 

It  rained  and  snowed  by  turns  all  night  and  at  eleven 
when  I  looked  out  upon  the  farm  the  haycocks  wore 
white  capes.  A  small  bedroom  opened  out  of  the  guest 
room  and  the  water  came  through  its  turf  roof  in  many 
places  in  streams,  in  fact  everywhere  except  upon  the 
bed  and  why  that  was  exempt  I  do  not  know. 

The  morning  broke  cold  and  windy  with  falling  snow 
and  the  uncut  grass  protruded  its  emerald  green 
through  the  white  blanket.     We  looked  towards  the 


VATNSDALR  261 

south,  listened  to  the  gusty  wind,  glanced  at  the  lower- 
ing heavens  and  returned  to  the  heated  stove.     It  was 
Sunday  and  we  decided  to  let  the  ponies  have  a  day 
of  rest.     They,  poor  beasts,  were  not  grazing  but  stood 
with  drooping  heads  and  tails  turned  towards  the  wind. 
The  ponies  of  Iceland !     In  no  other  place  in  the  world 
will  horses  thrive  under  such  treatment  as  they  receive 
in   this   land.      They  are   ridden   or  driven   with   their 
heavy   packs    all    day,    often    upon    grassless   mountain 
slopes,  fording  deep  and  cold  rivers,  often  swimming, 
often  laboring  in  long  reaches  of  sand  or  plunging  in 
grassy  bogs.     When     the  work  of  the  day  is  finished 
they  are  simply  turned  adrift  to  care  for  themselves. 
They  are  never  groomed,  never  given  any  grain,  never 
covered  with  a  blanket;  they  have  no  sheltering  stalls. 
They  are  simply  turned  loose  in  the  storm  as  well  as  in 
the  sunshine,  or,  into  what  they  dread  worse  than  any 
storm,  among  the  swarms  of  savage  midges.     When 
the  grass  is  good  they  are  happy;  they  never  knew  any 
other  life.     What  steed  of  English  or  American  stables 
would  care  to  become  an  Icelandic  pony,  to  work  all 
day  for  the  chance  to  graze  all  night,  and  then,  as  I 
have  so  often  witnessed,  have  their  master  end  the  days 
work  in  a  dreary  sand  waste  where  willow  leaves  and 
scanty  sedges  offer  the  only  forage? 

The  day  passed  rapidly  and  pleasantly.  The  farmer 
came  to  our  sitting  room  to  take  coffee  with  us  at  noon 
and  then  invited  me  to  go  and  see  his  pet  saddle  horse, 
a  magnificant  stallion.  This  I  did  with  interest  as  I 
had  never  seen  a  stallion  among  the  thousands  of  ponies 
I  had  found  in  the  country.  He  saddled  him  and 
showed  his  different  paces  for  some  time  about  the  tun 
and  then  Olafur  was  invited  to  ride  him.  I  photo- 
graphed the  farmer  on  his  steed  and  then  I  was  invited 
to  ride  the  stallion.  It  is  a  mark  of  special  favor  for 
any  farmer  to  allow  another  to  mount  his  private  pony; 


262  ICELAND 

and  it  is  also  a  breech  of  etiquette  to  offer  to  mount  an- 
other's pony.  This  is  a  custom  that  clings  from  the 
pagan  days.  We  read  in  the  Saga  of  Hrafnkell,  Frey's 
Priest,  how  one  man  met  his  death  by  mounting  the 
favorite  horse  of  another.  The  story  is  as  follows,  but 
greatly  abbreviated: — 

Einarr  engaged  himself  to  watch  the  sheep  of  the 
Priest  of  Frey,  Hrafnkell,  and  his  master  said  to 
him: — 

uI'll  make  a  short  bargain  with  thee.  Thy  business 
shall  be  to  watch  fifteen  ewes  at  the  mountain  dairy  and 
gather  and  carry  home  faggots  for  summer  fuel.  On 
these  terms  thou  shalt  take  service  with  me  for  two 
'half-years.'  But  one  thing  must  I  give  thee,  as  all  my 
shepherds  to  understand, — 'Freymane'  goes  grazing  in 
the  valley  with  his  band  of  mares;  thou  shalt  take  care 
of  him  winter  and  summer,  but  I  warn  thee  of  one 
thing,  namely,  that  thou  never  be  on  his  back  on  any 
condition  whatever,  for  I  am  bound  by  a  mighty  vow 
to  slay  the  man  that  ever  should  have  a  ride  on  him. 
There  are  twelve  mares  with  him;  whichever  one  of 
these  thou  mayest  want,  night  or  day,  is  at  your  service. 
Do  now  as  I  tell  thee  and  mind  the  old  saw, — 'No 
blame  is  borne  by  those  who  warn.'  Now  thou  know- 
est  that  I  have  said." 

Einarr  replied: — "I  trust  I  am  under  no  such  luck- 
less spell  as  to  ride  on  a  horse  which  is  forbidden, 
least  of  all  when  there  are  other  horses  at  my  dis- 
posal." 

Briefly,  Einarr  went  to  work,  the  time  came  when 
the  sheep  wandered;  a  rain  and  mist  came  down;  the 
ewes  had  been  absent  many  days;  Einarr  went  down 
to  the  grass  where  the  mares  were  grazing  taking  his 
saddle  cloth  and  bridle,  thinking  to  catch  one  and  ride 
over  the  hills  in  search  of  the  lost  sheep.  He  could 
not  catch  one  of  the  mares  though  he  had  spent  all  the 


VATNSDALR  263 

morning;  but  "Freymane  was  as  quiet  as  if  stuck  buried 
in  the  ground."  Einarr  though  that  his  master  surely 
would  never  know,  so  he  mounted  the  forbidden  pony 
and  "rode  until  middle  eve,"  and  "he  rode  him  long 
and  hard."  "The  horse  was  all  dripping  even  every 
hair  on  him;  bespattered  he  was  all  over  with  mire,  and 
mightily  blown.  Twelve  times  he  rolled  himself,  and 
then  he  set  up  a  mighty  neighing,  and  then  set  off  at  a 
quick  pace  down  along  the  beaten  track."  "Einarr 

ran  after  him  but  could  not  lay  hand  on  him." 
"He  ran  all  the  way  along  the  valley  never  stopping 
till  he  came  to  ASalbol.    At  that  time  Hrafnkell  sat  at 
table,   and  when   the   horse   came  before   the   door   it 
neighed  aloud." 

"He  went  out  and  saw  Freymane  and  spoke  to  him; 
'I  am  sorry  to  see  thee  in  this  kind  of  a  plight,  my  pet; 
however  thou  hadst  all  thy  wits  about  thee  in  coming 
thus  to  let  me  know  what  was  the  matter;  due  revenge 
shall  be  taken  for  this.'  " 

"In  the  morning  Hrafnkell  saddled  a  horse  and  rode 
up  to  the  dairy;  he  had  his  axe  in  his  hand  but  no  other 
weapons  about  him.  At  this  time  Einarr  had  just 
driven  the  ewes  into  the  pen,  and  lay  on  the  top  of  the 
wall  counting  the  sheep;  but  the  women  were  busy  milk- 
ing. They  all  greeted  Hrafnkell  and  he  asked  how 
they  got  on.  Einarr  answered;  'I  have  no  good  speed 
myself,  for  no  less  than  thirty  ewes  were  missing  for 
a  week,  though  now  I  have  found  them  again.'  Hrafn- 
kell said  he  had  no  fault  to  find  with  things  of  that  kind, 
'it  has  not  happened  so  often  as  might  have  been  ex- 
pected that  thou  hast  lost  the  ewes.  But  has  not  some- 
thing worse  befallen  than  that?  Didst  thou  not  have 
a  ride  on  Freymane  yesterday?' 

"Einarr  replied, — 'I  can  not  gainsay  that  utterly.' 

"Why  didst  thou  ride  on  this  one  horse  which  was 
forbidden  thee,  while  there  were  plenty  of  others  on 


264  ICELAND 

which  thou  art  free  to  ride?  Now  this  one  trespass  I 
could  have  forgiven  thee,  if  I  had  not  used  words  of 
such  great  earnestness  already.  And  yet  thou  hast  man- 
fully confessed  thy  guilt." 

"But  by  reason  of  the  belief  that  those  who  fulfill 
their  vows  never  come  to  grief,  he  leaped  off  his  horse, 
sprang  upon  Einarr,  and  dealt  him  his  death  blow." 

In  the  afternoon  the  Doctor  from  Blonduos  arrived 
at  the  farm  to  pay  a  social  call  and  the  farmer  brought 
him  to  our  sitting  room,  while  the  eldest  daughter 
served  us  with  the  usual  social  beverage  in  Iceland. 
Two  pleasant  hours  passed  during  which  we  gained 
much  information  about  Icelandic  customs,  local  his- 
tory and  legends. 

The  rain  came  down  still  harder  in  the  evening  but 
we  welcomed  it  as  it  promised  warmer  weather  and 
bare  ground  on  the  morrow.  So  much  water  had  come 
into  our  bed  room  that  it  was  only  by  judicious  side 
stepping  and  walking  on  the  tops  of  the  packing  boxes 
that  we  were  able  to  reach  the  bed  without  a  cold  and 
muddy  footbath. 

There  are  three  things  in  Iceland  that  have  never 
been  counted: — The  islands  in  Breidifjordr,  Broad- 
Fiord,  the  lakes  of  ArnavatnsheiSi,  Eagle-Lake-Heath, 
and  the  conical  hills  of  Vatnsdalr,  Water-Dale.  Our 
stopping  place,  Hnansar,  which  signifies  rough  ground, 
is  in  the  midst  of  these  peculiar  hills  and  in  the  center 
of  the  valley.  We  spent  three  days  among  the  hills  and 
found  them  of  marked  interest  to  the  geologist.  Hun- 
dreds of  acres  are  covered  with  the  cones  rising  from 
the  plain  to  an  elevation  of  from  twenty-five  to  over 
one  hundred  feet.  Oftentimes  they  are  so  near  to- 
gether that  their  bases  are  confluent  and  thus  seem  to 
be  double  peaked  in  a  few  instances.  Geologists  have 
given  different  reasons  for  this  queer  formation.  One 
states  that  they  are  of  glacial  origin  and  were  left  when 


VATNSDALR  265 

the  ice  melted  in  the  form  of  moraines;  another  is  of 
the  opinion  that  they  are  the  results  of  great  avalanches 
upon  the  glacier,  which  in  melting  left  them  here.  An- 
other states  that  they  are  merely  the  weathered  frag- 
ments of  a  local  lava  flow.  I  spent  a  day  in  their  ex- 
amination and  so  will  give  my  reasons  for  rejecting  the 
causes  assigned  by  these  gentlemen  and  substitute  my 
own  conclusions  in  order  that  future  scientists  interested 
in  the  geology  of  Iceland  may  confirm  or  refute  accord- 
ing as  they  weigh  the  evidence. 

They  can  not  be  glacial  moraine  as  there  is  no  evi- 
dence of  any  glacial  action  in  any  way  upon  any  of  the 
fragments  and  it  must  be  remembered  that  as  com- 
pared with  glaciated  areas  in  other  lands  Icelandic  gla- 
ciation  is  as  if  it  occurred  yesterday.  In  fact  glaciers 
are  still  covering  many  square  miles  of  the  table  land. 
There  is  no  evidence  of  any  water  erosion  on  any  of 
the  stones.  They  could  not  have  been  avalanches  upon 
the  ice  sheet  for  there  are  no  mountains  near  at  hand 
from  which  such  masses  of  material  could  have  come. 
And  if  it  is  argued  that  the  avalanches  were  at  a  dis- 
tance it  turns  the  problem  once  more  into  that  of  the 
moraine.  The  character  of  the  valley  and  its  low  moun- 
tains will  not  permit  our  reason  to  accept  either  the 
glacial  or  the  avalanche  theory. 

There  is  no  evidence  of  any  great  lava  flow  either 
in  plugs,  intrusive  sheets  or  surface  flow,  neither  in  the 
necessary  abundance  of  scoriae  and  blistered  fragments 
to  warrant  such  a  theory.  And  if  there  were,  we  must 
then  explain  why  these  are  "cones"  and  not  craters  with 
blistered  rims  and  solid  slopes.  We  must  turn  to 
Myvatri  for  the  explanation.  It  is  my  opinion  that 
deep  seated  and  violent  subterrannean  explosions  of 
considerable  frequency  took  place  here,  as  in  the  case 
of  Hverfjall  the  giant  explosion  crater  of  Myvatn.  It 
heaved  up  the  crust  in  crumpled  masses,  mingling  the 


266  ICELAND 

different  basalt  formations  of  ancient  flows  which  lay  in 
superimposed  sheets.  How  else  can  one  account  for  the 
many  kinds  of  lava  in  a  single  cone,  the  absence  of 
blistering  and  cones  in  place  of  craters?  I  have  per- 
formed an  interesting  experiment  in  the  laboratory  upon 
this  theory  and  with  results  that  seem  to  verify  the 
above  conclusions.  A  two  liter  copper  beaker  was 
chosen.  It  was  half  filled  with  clay  dust  of  different 
colors  in  layers.  This  dust  was  prepared  by  thoroughly 
drying  the  clays,  pulverizing  and  then  dusting  it  through 
a  double  fold  of  cheese  cloth.  This  gave  me  particles 
large  enough  for  my  miniature  experiment.  The  beaker 
was  then  slowly  heated  from  the  bottom.  After  due 
process  of  time  with  the  increase  of  heat  the  subter- 
ranean gases,  in  this  case  air  in  the  dust,  expanded.  At 
first  with  slightly  audible  bumps  and  a  faint  trembling 
of  the  surface.  These  increased  until  the  action  became 
violent  and  small  mounds  were  thrown  up  which 
formed  true  cones  with  mingled  colors  from  the  dif- 
ferent depths. 

Vatnsdalr  is  a  fair  and  pleasant  valley,  when  the 
sun  shines.  No  wonder  that  it  possessed  a  charm  for  the 
early  settlers  with  its  parallel  mountain  ridges  of  en- 
trancing blue,  its  noble  river  expanding  into  fine  sheets 
of  water  where  trout  are  abundant  and  its  fertile  mead- 
ows of  broad  expanse.  It  is  historic  ground  as  well  as 
legendary.  It  has  known  stirring  days  and  its  heroes 
were  the  bravest  of  any  who  wielded  the  axe  and  bill 
in  the  troublesome  times  when  blood  alone  could  re- 
compense a  personal  affront  or  a  crossed  lover.  A 
whole  sheaf  of  Sagas  relate  the  deeds  of  the  men  and 
women  of  Waterdale.  The  valley  is  the  same  as  of 
old.  The  inhabitants  point  out  the  exact  localities 
where  the  guest  halls  of  the  nobles  stood  and  where 
their  temples  of  sacrifice  were  reared  to  propitiate  the 
gods  of  Valhalla ;  they  show  one  where  the  champions 


VATNSDALR  267 

battled  for  their  rights,  where  the  lovers  held  their 
trysts  and  the  mounds  where  the  heroes  were  entombed. 
These  incidents  have  been  handed  down  from  genera- 
tion to  generation,  from  father  to  son  and  the  stories 
were  oft  repeated  in  the  bathstofa  during  the  long  win- 
ter evenings  when  the  Arctic  shore  was  frozen  and  the 
wind  whirled  the  drifting  snows  around  their  turf  huts. 

Besides  the  lengthy  Sagas  there  are  numerous  shorter 
stories  that  have  been  preserved  in  written  form  such 
as  that  of  Gisli,  the  Outlaw;  Grettir,  the  Strong  and 
Glum.  It  is  a  knowledge  of  the  Sagas  and  the  legends 
that  spread  the  charm  over  this  valley,  that  leads  one 
from  the  present  to  the  past  by  a  jump  backwards  of 
many  centuries.  To  visit  Iceland,  especially  the  Saga 
Dales,  in  ignorance  of  their  history  would  be  like  tramp- 
ing through  Scotland  without  any  acquaintance  with 
Sir  Walter  Scott,  or  a  sojourn  in  London  without  a 
knowledge  of  Dickens. 

In  most  countries  the  progress  of  modern  life,  with 
its  inventions  and  the  eternal  scramble  for  the  latest 
style  in  everything,  has  obliterated  much  if  not  all  of 
the  past  and  one  can  only  obtain  the  colors  of  the 
former  ages  in  the  ruins  of  a  castle  or  cathedral  or 
from  the  written  pages  of  the  antiquary.  Not  so  in  Ice- 
land,— farms,  mountains,  rivers,  lakes  and  meadows  re- 
main the  same  and  under  the  same  names  given  to  them 
by  the  first  settlers,  though  it  be  ten  centuries  of  time. 
No  railway  or  canal,  no  public  improvements,  modern 
cities  or  factories  have  obliterated  the  ancient  land- 
marks. Even  the  manners  and  dress  of  the  people  are 
little  changed  from  that  early  day.  On  the  ruins  of  the 
tumbled-down  hut  of  his  grandfather  the  grandson 
erects  his  house  in  the  same  fashion  and  the  descend- 
ents  of  the  first  imported  sheep  furnish  skins  for  shoes 
still  tanned,  cut  and  fashioned  after  the  ancient  model. 
To  visit  the  remote  dales  of  Iceland  is  to  be  set  back- 


268  ICELAND 

ward  in  history  and  fashions  a  thousand  years. 

The  Water  dale  Saga  tells  us  how  Ingmundr,  a  grand 
old  Viking,  after  years  of  sea-roving  and  plundering 
along  the  shores  of  the  southern  seas  settled  in  this  val- 
ley with  his  followers.  He  had  made  a  vow  that  no 
matter  where  he  might  roam  that  Norway  should  al- 
ways remain  his  home.  The  witches  of  Finland  prophe- 
sied that  Iceland  would  be  his  resting  place  and  so  it 
was.  At  the  farm  called  Hof,  Temple,  one  may  still 
trace  the  position  of  his  great  Scali,  Banquet  Hall,  and 
there  beside  it  winds  the  river  where  the  old  man  lost 
his  life.  He  had  promised  protection  to  a  renegade 
who  treacherously  slew  his  benefactor.  Ingmundr  went 
to  his  high  seat  in  the  hall  after  the  blow,  wrapped  his 
cloak  around  him  and  died  alone.  His  grandson, 
In  golf  r}  was  "the  handsomest  man  in  all  the  northern 
lands."  Here  is  a  song  written  about  him  over  800 
years  ago  by  a  little  maiden  who  admired  him : — 

"All  the  pretty  maidens 
Wish  to  dance  with  Ingolfr; 
All  the  grown-up  damsels. 
Woe's  me,  I'm  too  little! 
'I  too,'  said  the  Carline, 
'I  will  go  with  Ingolfr 
While  a  tooth  is  left  me, 
While  I've  strength  to  hobble.'  " 

Trans,  by  Miss  Oswald. 

In  the  Saga  of  the  farm  of  Grimstunga,  Grim's 
Tongue,  (tunga  is  frequently  used  with  reference  to  a 
narrow  strip  of  grass  land  in  a  sand  waste  or  between 
masses  of  lava),  at  the  head  of  the  valley,  we  find  the 
following  story  of  Ingolfr: — 

"An  autumn  feast  was  held  at  Grimstunga  and  a 
playing  at  the  ball.  Ingolfr  came  to  the  game,  and 
many  men  with  him  from  the  Dale,"   (Water  Dale.) 


VATNSDALR  269 

"The  weather  was  fine  and  the  women  sat  out  and 
watched  the  game.  Valgerdr,  Ottar's  daughter,  sat 
on  the  hill-side  and  other  women  with  her.  Ingolfr 
was  in  the  game  and  his  ball  flew  far  up  among  the 
girls.  Valgerdr  took  the  ball  and  hid  it  under  her 
cloak  and  bade  him  find  it  who  had  cast  it.  Ingolfr 
came  up  and  found  it  and  bade  the  others  go  on  with 
the  game;  but  he  played  no  more  himself.  He  sat 
down   by  Valgerdr  and   talked   the   rest  of  the   day." 

It  was  the  story  of  love  that  did  not  go  smoothly  for 
he  flirted  and  did  not  propose  to  her  father  for  her  hand 
in  marriage.  Her  father  sold  his  farm  and  moved  to 
the  south.  Man-slayings  followed  and  Valgerdr  was 
forced  by  her  father  to  marry  another  man  when  Ingolfr 
deserted  her  for  another  maiden.  He  had  many  love 
affairs  for  he  was  inconstant.  In  the  end  he  was 
wounded  by  outlaws  and  when  dying  he  requested  that 
he  might  be  laid  in  the  mound  with  his  forefathers  near 
the  river  path  in  Water  Dale  that  "the  maidens  might 
remember  him  when  they  walked  that  way." 

Valgerdr  had  a  famous  brother,  Halfredr  nicknamed 
Vandaedaskald,  signifying  the  "Troublesome  Scald." 
He  was  the  favorite  scald  of  the  powerful  Norwegian 
King,  Olaf  Tryggvason,  who  reigned  from  99^  to 
1000  A.  D.  A  full  account  of  this  King  and  of  his 
favorite  singer  is  given  in  Heimskringla  by  Snorri 
Sturlason,  the  Norse  Historian,  from  which  the  follow- 
ing brief  account  is  condensed. 

Halfredr  was  a  wayward  youth,  given  to  wandering 
and  adventure,  a  real  Viking  in  spirit.  He  was  born 
in  968  and  raised  at  this  very  farm  of  Haukagil,  Hawk- 
Gulley,  where  the  notes  for  this  chapter  were  roughly 
penned  in  19 10.  He  was  "a  tall  man,  strong  and 
manly  looking,  somewhat  swathy,  his  nose  rather  ugly, 
his  hair  brown  and  setting  him  off  well." 

A  little  brook  tumbles  down  from  the  heath  behind 


270  ICELAND 

the  house,  the  rolling  meadow  reaches  away  to  the  river 
and  beyond  it  the  mountains  rise  in  glorious  colors  in 
this  evening  light  just  as  they  did  when  Halfredr  played 
beside  this  same  brook  as  a  child  and  Ingolfr  flirted 
with  Halfred's  sister.  The  turf  house  and  the  tun,  the 
noisy  dogs  bringing  up  the  ewes  for  the  evening  milk- 
ing, the  swish  of  the  scythe  in  the  grass  and  the  call 
of  the  plover  on  the  heights, — all  are  as  in  the  days  of 
old  and  it  requires  little  fancy  to  place  this  sturdy  youth 
in  his  old  surroundings. 

He  was  a  poetical  genius,  a  favorite  of  kings  and  a 
terror  to  his  enemies.  He  did  not  so  often  unsheath 
his  sword  in  a  quarrel  as  he  employed  his  stinging 
rhymes  which  cut  his  enemy  deeper  than  the  sharpest 
sword.  Like  his  sister,  Halfredr  had  his  love  troubles. 
Kolfina  loved  him  and  he  reciprocated  but  her  father 
chose  otherwise  and  betrothed  her  to  Griss,  a  man  who 
had  accumulated  great  wealth  in  the  service  of  the  Em- 
peror at  Constantinople.  Griss  was  "rather  elderly, 
short-sighted,  blear-eyed;"  but  he  could  see  well  enough 
when  he  went  to  woo  Kolfina  that  a  handsome  youth 
was  kissing  her  at  the  door  of  the  lodge.  Caught  by 
Griss  in  the  very  act,  Halfredr  shouted  to  him  as  he 
took  his  reluctant  departure : — 

"Thou  shalt  have  me  for  a  foe,  Griss,  if  thou  wilt 
try  to  make  this  match." 

The  parents  gave  Halfredr  a  good  scolding  and  or- 
dered  him  away  at  once.  As  he  rides  away  he  makes 
this  rhyme : — 

"Rage  of  the  heath-dweller,  trough-filler,  beer-swiller, 

Count  I  no  more 

Than  the  old  farm-dog's  yelp 

At  the  farm  door 
Howling  at  parting  guest, — who  cares  for  his  behest? 

My  song  shall  praise  her  best, 

Her  I  adore." 

Trans,  by  Miss  Oswald. 


VATNSDALR  271 

Longfellow  says: — 

"Halfred  the  scald, 
Gray-bearded,   wrinkled,   and   bald." 

This  passage  shows  the  wide  poetic  license  which 
Longfellow  took  in  dealing  with  the  Sagas  and  the 
He'imskringla  of  Snorri.  Scott's  harpers  were  always 
old  and  gray  and  Longfellow  infers  that  the  Scalds 
were  the  same.  The  fact  is  that  Halfredr  did  not  live 
beyond  forty  years  of  age.  He  was  gay  and  reckless 
as  were  all  of  his  cult;  he  was  reckless  of  speech  even 
in  the  presence  of  the  king.  He  was  always  ready  with 
a  song  whether  at  the  court  of  Olaf,  in  the  camp,  on 
the  sea  in  storm  or  in  calm  or  in  the  brunt  of  the 
fight.  He  was  constant  in  love  and  although  he  mar- 
ried a  beautiful  and  wealthy  woman  he  never  forgot 
his  early  love  for  the  fair  Kolfitia. 

King  Olaf  had  much  trouble  in  converting  him  to 
Christianity  and  in  getting  him  to  take  the  christening. 
He  succeeded  as  we  shall  see  from  the  following  quota- 
tion, but  Halfredr  clung  in  secret  to  the  faith  of  his  fa- 
thers, the  hope  of  a  future  life  in  Valhalla  as  we  note 
from  the  many  references  to  the  old  northern  gods  in 
his  songs  and  the  way  in  which  he  talks  of  them.  So 
frequently  did  he  call  upon  the  pagan  deities  that  Olaf 
often  talked  to  him  about  it  and  mistrusted  that  he  was 
not  really  converted  to  the  Cross. 

The  Christening  of  Halfred  The  Troublous-Skald. 

*********** 

Heimskringla,  Vol.  T.  Sturlason. 

"On  a  day  went  the  King  a-walking  in  the  street,  and 
certain  men  met  him,  and  he  of  them  who  went  first 
greeted  the  King;  and  the  King  asked  him  of  his  name, 
and  he  named  himself  Hallfredr." 

"Art  thou  the  skald?"  said  the  king. 

Said  he,  "I  can  make  verses." 


272  ICELAND 

Then  said  the  King: — "Wilt  thou  take  christening, 
and  become  my  man  thereafter?" 

Saith  he: — "This  shall  be  our  bargain:  I  will  let 
myself  be  christened,  if  thou,  King,  be  thyself  my  gos- 
sip, but  from  no  other  man  will  I  take  it." 

The  King  answerest: — "Well,  I  will  do  that." 

So  then  was  Hallfredr  christened,  and  the  King  him- 
self held  him  at  the  font. 

Then  the  King  asked  of  Hallfredr :  "Wilt  thou  now 
become  my  man?" 

Hallfreftr  said:  "Erst  was  I  of  the  body-guard  of 
Earl  Hakon;  nor  will  I  now  be  the  liege  man  of  thee 
nor  of  any  other  lord,  but  if  thou  give  me  thy  word 
that  for  no  deed  I  may  happen  to  do  thou  wilt  drive  me 
away  from  thee." 

"From  all  that  is  told  me,"  said  the  King,  "thou 
art  neither  so  wise  nor  so  meek  but  it  seemeth  like 
enough  to  me  that  thou  mayest  do  some  deed  or  other 
which  I  may  nowise  put  up  with." 

"Slay  me  then,"  said  Hallfredr. 

The  King  said:  "Thou  art  a  Troublous-Skald;  but 
my  man  shalt  thou  be  now." 

Answereth  Hallfrecfr:  "What  wilt  thou  give  me  for 
a  name  gift,  King,  if  I  am  to  be  called  Troublous- 
Scald?" 

The  King  gave  him  a  sword,  but  no  scabbard  there- 
with; and  the  King  said:  "Make  us  now  a  stave  about 
the  sword,   and  let  the  sword  come  into  every  line." 

HaJlfredr  sang: — 

"One  only  sword  of  all  swords 
Hath  made  me  now  sword-wealthy 
Now  then  shall  things  be  sword-some 
For  the  Niords  of  the  Sweep  of  sword-edge 
Naught  to  the  sword  were  lacking, 
If  to  that  sword  were  scahhard 
All  with  the  earth-hones  colored. 
Of  three  swords  am  I  worthy." 


VATNSDALR  273 

Then  the  King  gave  him  the  scabbard  and  said: 
"But  there  is  not  a  sword  in  every  line." 

"Yea,"  answers  Hallfredr,  "but  there  are  three 
swords  in  one  line." 

"Yea,  forsooth,"  saith  the  King. 

Now  from  Hallfredr's  songs  we  take  knowledge  and 
sooth  witness  from  what  is  there  told  concerning  King 

Olaf. 

*********** 

In  1014,  after  a  great  sea  fight  in  which  a  yard  arm 
fell  and  inflicted  a  mortal  blow,  HaUfreSr  lay  dying  on 
board  of  a  crippled  vessel  which  was  drifting  before 
the  gale.  Still  mindful  of  conditions  around  him  he 
makes  the  following  stave,  which  was  translated  by 
Miss  Oswald: — 

"Down  on  my  heart  and  side 
Crashes  the  weatherworn  spar; 
Scarce  ever  so  heavy  a  wave 
Has  swept  o'er  a  boat  before. 
Wet  am  I,  wave-washed  and  worn, 
And  shattered  at  heart  and  breast; 
And  the  sea  is  aboard  our  craft, 
And  nowhere  the  scald  can  rest." 

With  his  dying  breath  he  chanted  the  following 
stave,  showing  that  his  early  love,  Kolfitw,  had  not 
been  forgotten  during  his  long  years  of  warfare  and 
wanderings : — 

"The  binder  of  her  wimpled  brow 
Will  shade  these  lovely  eyes,  I  know, 
With  white  hands  soft  and  tender. 
The  rain-storm  flood  will  have  its  way 
When  she  has  heard  how  dead  T  lav, 
Though  once  I  did  offend  her, 
When  overboard  the  warriors  cast 
Her  scald,  her  love, — of  all  the  past, 
The  love  she  will  remember." 


274  ICELAND 

Thus  died  in  middle  life  one  of  the  greatest  of  the 
Norse  scalds.  His  had  been  a  "troublous"  life  indeed. 
The  duties  of  the  scald  were  to  improvise  poetry  on 
the  instant,  in  praise  of  the  King  and  in  recounting  the 
deeds  of  his  favorite  warriors  in  battle.  He  was  the 
historian  and  the  periodical  at  the  same  time;  his  ut- 
terances were  respected  and  he  was  feared  by  prince  and 
peasant.  The  scald  had  liberties  at  court  and  in  the 
royal  camp  or  on  board  the  royal  fighting  ship  not 
accorded  to  any  other  retainer. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


REYKHOLT 


"I  think  that  I  would  wander  far  to  view 
Such  scenes  as  these,  for  they  would  fill  a  heart 
That  lothes  the  commerce  of  this  wretched  world, 
That  sickens  at  its  hollow  gaieties." 

— Sou  they. 

THE  present  house  at  Haukagill  is  finished 
inside  with  unpainted  spruce  from  Norway, 
beautiful  as  old  mahogany,  having  become 
soft  reddish  brown  with  age  and  frequent 
polishing  with  fine  sand.  Our  bed  chamber  contained 
the  pride  of  the  family,  a  Connecticut  clock  adjusted  to 
strike  the  hours  and  the  quarters.  Its  gong  was  far 
from  musical.  The  bells  of  Bruges  had  raised  havoc 
with  our  sleep  with  their  persistent  struggle  to  be  heard, 
but  this  clock,  on  a  shelf  at  the  head  of  the  bed,  re- 
minded us  every  fifteen  minutes  that  it  also  came  from 
New  England  as  well  as  we  and  was  clamorous  for 
recognition.  After  hours  of  sleeplessness  we  wished 
it  had  never  left  the  Nutmeg  State. 

At  nine  in  the  morning  wre  turned  our  backs  upon 
this  charming  valley,  climbed  the  steep  hill  and  looked 
down  at  the  farm  house,  the  last  we  were  to  see  for 
two  days.  We  were  now  fairly  upon  the  great  plain 
of  Grimstungaheicfi,  Grim's-Tongue-Heath,  an  exten- 
sive tract  of  desolation  between  the  fertile  valleys  of 
the  north  and  the  glaciers  of  the  great  central  plateau 
of  Iceland.  For  a  while  there  was  a  trace  of  a  trail 
which  soon  disappeared.  Hour  after  hour  we  plodded 
on,  guided  solely  by  the  glimmer  of  the  glaciers  on  the 
horizon  and  an  occasional  tumbled-down  cairn  of 
former  days. 

275 


276  ICELAND 

This  tract  is  a  broad  and  fresh  moraine  from  the 
recently  receded  glacier,  chaotic,  empty,  vast  and  dreary. 
There  is  nothing  to  relieve  the  monotony  of  the  scene 
save  the  increasing  mass  of  ice  as  the  glaciers  loom 
higher  above  the  stony  horizon.  The  angular  frag- 
ments of  lava,  somber,  gray,  variously  riven  and  con- 
fusedly hurled  in  piles,  are  as  though  some  vast  moun- 
tain had  been  crumpled  like  an  eggshell  and  the  frag- 
ments scattered  by  a  titanic  hand.  No  touch  of  ver- 
dure enlivens  the  cold  ruin  and  weary  waste,  save  at  the 
margins  of  the  numerous  ponds  and  pools  which  glim- 
mer like  sheets  of  light  in  the  dim  distance.  Otherwise, 
everything  everywhere  is  like  everything  everywhere 
else.  This  heath  is  similar  to  the  vast  interior  of  Ice- 
land, except  that  the  traces  of  vegetation  found  here 
are  often  entirely  wanting  throughout  large  sections, 
notably  north  of  Hoffs  Jokull,  as  my  pack  train  had  oc- 
casion to  testify  in  the  summer  of  19 13.  There  are 
large  sections  of  bristling  lava,  life-destroying  sands 
and  death-presaging  glaciers  which  man  has  never  ex- 
plored. 

All  day  we  rode  to  the  southward,  and,  save  the 
wild  swan  on  the  ponds,  no  living  creature  crossed  our 
trail.  It  was  three  in  the  afternoon  before  we  found 
sufficient  grass  to  afford  the  hungry  ponies  a  bite;  this 
was  at  the  margin  of  a  pool  of  glacial  water  that  had 
filtered  through  the  moraines.  We  regaled  ourselves 
from  the  contents  of  our  packing  boxes,  rested  an  hour, 
changed  saddle  horses  and  then  pushed  on  over  an  un- 
usually rough  mass  of  terminal  moraine  at  the  foot  of 
Lang  Jokull.  .  We  turned  towards  the  southwest, 
crossed  a  bog  and  arrived  at  the  small  saelhus,  refuge, 
at  Arnavatn,  Eagle-Take.  This  shelter  of  turf  and 
stones  was  built  for  the  protection  of  the  sheep  gather- 
ers, who  resort  hither  in  the  autumn  to  gather  the  sheep 
that   have   strayed   to  the   highlands  during  the   long 


The  Glacier  of  Lang  Jokull  in  the  Kaldidalr 


La n z  Jokull. 


Eiriks  Jokull. 


Glaciers  and  Moraine  on  Arnavatnsheidi. 


REYKHOLT  277 

summer. 

This  shelter  stands  on  the  shore  of  the  lake  just 
under  the  shoulder  of  Eyriks  Jbkull.  As  this  was  one 
of  the  most  unusual  so  was  it  the  choicest  of  our  ex- 
periences this  summer.  In  front  of  the  hut  is  a  watei- 
fall  which  connects  the  upper  with  the  lower  lake. 
Here  upon  this  point  of  land  Grettir  lived  for  many 
years  during  his  exile,  six  I  believe.  In  ancient  days 
this  desert  was  infested  with  outlaws,  desperate  men, 
living  upon  sheep  and  cattle  stolen  from  the  farmers 
along  the  borders  of  the  desert.  Usually  these  were 
men  who  had  taken  human  life  and  were  ready  to  take 
others  if  it  would  secure  to  them  their  wild  liberty. 
Considering  the  history  of  the  place,  its  rough  and 
weird  aspect,  its  proximity  to  the  life-destroying  glaci- 
ers and  the  chaos  so  heavily  stamped  upon  the  land,  it 
is  not  to  be  wondered  that  imagination  has  peopled 
this  unfrequented  area  with  trolls  and  witches,  nor 
that  a  few  people  may  be  found  to  day  who  tell  their 
children  that  outlaws  still  live  in  the  interior  around 
the  glaciers  and  in  the  lava  caves. 

In  the  summer  of  19 13  I  was  camping  at  Hvitdvatn, 
White-Lake,  on  the  east  side  of  Lang  Jokull  with  the 
same  Icelander,  Clafur  Eyvindsson,  who  was  with  us  in 
19 10.  He  said  that  he  first  visited  White-Lake  In  1909 
and  that  after  he  had  retired  with  another  Icelander  to 
their  tent  which  was  beside  that  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fred- 
erick Wright  of  Washington,  D.  C,  they  were  thinking 
about  the  outlaws  and  61afur  wondered  if  there  was 
really  any  truth  in  the  current  stories  of  outlaws  liv- 
ing here  at  the  present  time.  At  the  close  of  conversa- 
tion when  sleep  had  fallen  upon  him,  he  awoke  as  with 
the  sound  of  two  men  talking  in  a  low  tone  in  the 
Icelandic.  He  cautiously  put  his  head  out  of  the  tent 
and  with  something  like  fear.  He  listened  a  few  mo- 
ments, the  men  drew  nearer  and  he  went  to  meet  them. 


278  ICELAND 

To  his  pleasant  surprise  he  found  them  to  be  a  well 
known  physician  and  his  friend  from  Reykjavik.  And 
this  is  all  the  truth  there  is  to-day  about  outlaws  in  the 
interior  of  Iceland.  There  is  only  one  thing  to  fear, — 
shortage  of  grass  for  the  ponies.  Grass  the  pony  must 
have  and  feeding  it  to  him  is  like  feeding  shavings 
to  a  roaring  furnace.  It  is  a  rare  sight  to  see  an  Ice- 
landic pony  lying  down,  for  he  will  carry  you  all  day 
and  feed  all  night. 

During  the  evening  Clafur  and  I  shod  the  ponies,  for 
the  rough  blocks  had  made  havoc  with  their  little  feet. 
This  was  my  first  experience  in  the  art  of  farriery.  We 
hobbled  them  for  the  night  and  turned  them  into  the 
bog  beside  the  upper  pond.  Then  we  made  great  in- 
roads upon  our  provisions.  We  gathered  a  few  frag- 
ments of  birch  twigs  and  roots  and  some  dried  sheep 
manure  and  with  this  fuel  were  able  to  warm  two  cans 
of  soup  and  to  smoke  the  hut  thoroughly.  The  smoke 
had  the  wholesome  effect  of  driving  out  the  dampness. 

That  evening  is  long  to  live  in  memory.  We  were 
fortunate  in  having  no  fog  and  a  perfectly  clear  at- 
mosphere. The  vastness  of  the  lava-riven  plain,  roll- 
ing away  to  the  distant  mountains,  the  network  of 
ponds  and  glacial  streams,  glimmering  in  the  lingering 
sunlight  of  the  Arctic  summer  night,  the  great  glacier, 
with  blue-green  walls  and  prismic  domes,  upon  whose 
front  hung  scores  of  streams  like  strings  of  shining 
pearls, — such  was  the  framework  of  the  picture.  The 
smoke  from  our  root  fire  curled  lazily  upwards  into 
the  clear  and  rarified  air  from  the  diminutive  pile  of 
turf  and  lava  that  was  to  be  our  shelter  for  the  night. 
The  swan  led  their  young  from  lake  to  lake  in  front 
of  the  camp  and  sang  throughout  the  glorious  night. 

1  he  hardness  of  the  improvised  bed  of  boards  and 
saddles,  or,  perhaps  it  was  the  charm  of  the  landscape, 
forbade   my   lengthened   morning   slumber   and   three 


REYKHOLT  279 

o'clock  found  me  crouched  in  the  shelter  of  the  cairn, 
drinking  in  the  wonders  of  the  scene, — glacier,  lake 
and  rolling  moraine  with  the  sunlight  over  all. 

Eight  in  the  morning,  breakfastless,  found  us  in  the 
saddle.  The  ponies  had  fared  poorly  here,  and  if  we 
were  not  to  spend  another  night  in  the  desert  we  must 
ride  until  we  found  grass,  where  pony  and  man  could 
eat  to  repletion. 

The  heath  over  which  we  took  our  morning  ride  is 
uninviting,  dreary  and  somewhat  awe  inspiring.  There 
are  many  beds  of  flowers  in  sheltered  places.  The  purple 
armaria,  sandwort  and  stone-crop  are  the  smiles  of 
Flora  upon  the  face  of  an  Arctic  desolation.  As  one 
reclines  upon  the  flowered  mounds  between  the  tussocks 
of  grass,  basking  in  the  genial  sunshine  and  piling  the 
empty  tins  around  him,  he  forgets  for  the  moment  that 
he  is  under  the  cliffs  of  a  mighty  sheet  of  perpetual  ice, 
that  he  is  entirely  dependent  upon  his  ponies  and  the 
scanty  grass  they  are  now  so  greedily  eating.  Break- 
fast over,  we  rode  for  hours  under  the  front  of  Eyrik* 
Jokull,  with  many  a  stony  moraine  to  climb  and  glacial 
torrent  to  ford.  There  is  a  legend  concerning  the 
name  of  this  mountain  which  is  worth  relating  as  it 
shows  something  of  the  stirring  times  of  the  old  days 
in  spite  of  the  absurdity  of  the  conclusion. 

A  band  of  outlaws  assembled  in  the  great  cavern  of 
Surtur  and  lived  upon  ponies,  sheep  and  cattle  stoien 
from  the  farmers  near  Kalmungstunga,  Kalmungs- 
Tongue,  and  became  a  great  menace  to  the  entire  re- 
gion. Many  attempts  had  been  made  to  capture  them 
but  without  avail.  Finally  a  lad  volunteered  to  leave 
his  home  and  join  the  outlaws  and  act  in  the  capacity 
of  a  spy.  He  did  his  work  so  well  that  he  won  the 
full  confidence  of  the  outlaws  for  he  killed  sheep  be- 
longing to  his  own  father  and  brought  them  to  the 
cave.     The  time  came  when,  at  the  signal  from  the 


28o  ICELAND 

boy,  the  farmers  assembled  to  take  the  outlaws  un- 
awares. Gathering  at  the  entrance  of  the  side  cave  in 
great  Surtshellir  in  large  numbers  they  slew  all  of  the 
outlaws  except  Eyrik.  This  man  was  the  strongest  of 
all  men  of  his  time  and  made  a  stout  resistance.  How- 
ever, the  farmers  hacked  at  him  with  their  swords  and 
cut  off  both  feet  at  the  ankles  and  both  hands  at  the 
wrists.  Having  no  way  in  which  to  longer  defend  him- 
self, Eyrik  turned  a  cartwheel  on  his  bloody  stumps 
across  the  blistered  lava,  up  the  ice  slope  and  to  the 
very  summit  of  the  glacier.  In  this  manner  he  escaped 
and  if  you  doubt  it  you  can  still  see  the  blood  red 
craggs  of  fire  scorched  lava  over  which  he  rolled  a 
human  wheel.  He  is,  if  this  story  is  true,  the  only  man 
who  has  ever  gained  the  summit  of  this,  the  second 
mountain  in  height  in  Iceland  and  from  him  the  moun- 
tain takes  its  name. 

In  the  afternoon  we  came  upon  the  great  Hallmun- 
darhraun,  Hallmundar's-Lava,  twisted,  crumpled, 
cracked  and  tangled,  grey  with  lichens  and  Icelandic 
moss  in  patches  and  alive  with  ptarmigan,  plover  and 
whimbrels.  Beneath  this  lava  sheet  is  Surtshellir,  Sur- 
tur's-Cave.  Before  we  explore  this  chamber  of  fire 
origin  it  is  well  to  pause  for  a  moment  and  glance  at 
the  Norse  mythology  relative  to  Surtur. 

In  the  Edda  of  Saemund,  the  Wise,  we  find  the 
"Song  of  Vafthrudnis."  This  is  a  dialog  between  Odin, 
who,  under  the  disguise  of  Ganrade,  visited  the  Jo- 
tunori  to  converse  with  their  gigantic  chief  Vafthrudnis, 
to  determine  which  was  the  wiser.  Their  discourse  was 
concerning  the  origin  of  the  world  and  the  races  of 
men.  When  Odin  entered  the  giant's  hall  he  was  ac- 
costed by  the  master  as  follows: — 

"What  mortal  he  who  dares  to  come, 

Unbidden,  to  my  awful  dome 

To  hold  discourse?       For  never  more 


REYKHOLT  281 

Shall  he  his  homeward  way  explore; 
Unless  he  happly  should  exceed, 
What  wisdom  is  to  me  decreed." 

After  a  lengthy  and  interesting  dialog,  Odin  pro- 
poses a  question  which  the  giant  can  not  answer,  so 
Vafthrudnis  replies: — 

"None  know  since  time  its  race  hath  run 
What  Odin  whispered  to  his  son. 
The  fate  of  gods  and  mystic  lore 
With  thee  no  longer  I  explore. 
Thou,  by  the  hand  of  knowledge  led, 
The  fatal  stroke  of  death  has  fled ; 
And  since  thy  wisdom  I  have  tried, 
Hear  Vafthrudnis  thus  decide, — 

'In  mysteries  of  every  kind, 

Thou  are  the  wisest  of  mankind.' 

Trans,  by  Cottle. 

In  this  Ode  we  are  told  that  Surtur  was  the  adversary 
of  Odin,  that  he  dwelt  in  the  Antarctic, — 

"Where  decked  with  many  a  shining  car, 
Gods  and  great  Surtur  rush  to  war." 

This  was  on  the  fabled  plain  of  VigriSi,  where  ua  hun- 
dred miles  around"  on  the  wreck  of  the  fiery  elements 
the  gods  battled  with  their  enemies  and  with  the  ene- 
mies of  the  mortals  whom  they  protected.  One  article 
of  the  Norse  mythology  states  that  Surtur,  the  black 
prince  of  the  nether  regions,  should  come  from  the 
south  and  set  the  world  on  fire.  Here  where  the  devasta- 
tion of  volcanic  fire  blast  is  terrible,  where  a  whole  valley 
is  filled  with  the  scorched  and  blistered  lava  flow  from 
the  ice-crowned  volcanoes,  here  where  the  great,  black 
cavern  extends  for  a  mile  under  ground,  the  early  set- 
tlers located  the  abode  of  the  dread  black  prince, 
Surtur,  and  most  fittingly.     It  was  with  a  knowledge 


282  ICELAND 

of  this  cave  in  his  mind  that  Jules  Verne  wrote  his 
story  of  "A  Journey  to  the  Center  of  the  Earth." 

Beside  the  entrance  and  on  a  mound  of  crumpled 
lava  stands  a  varfia,  cairn,  to  mark  the  way.  Hun- 
dreds of  these  cairns  have  been  built  in  the  past  cen- 
turies throughout  the  travelled  portions  of  Iceland  to 
guide  the  traveller  over  the  mountain  passes,  across  the 
sandy  deserts  and  extensive  wastes  of  glacial  moraine 
as  well  as  to  point  the  direction  to  places  where  grass 
may  be  found  for  the  ponies.  There  is  a  style  in  Ice- 
landic cairns  as  in  women's  clothes  and  one  can  tell 
by  their  outward  appearance  at  what  period  they  were 
built.  They  reminded  Henderson  of  the  passage  in 
Jeremiah  xxxi,  21, — "Set  thee  up  way-marks,  make 
thee  high  heaps." 

A  portion  of  the  roof  of  the  cavern  fell  in  at  some 
remote  period  and  this  is  the  entrance.  We  climbed 
down  with  some  difficulty  to  the  snow  bank  and  found 
a  ptarmigan  perched  upon  a  block  of  stone.  I  had  no 
difficulty  in  approaching  within  ten  feet  and  she  waited 
for  me  to  take  two  photographs.  This  is  the  largest 
and  the  longest  lava  tunnel  known.  It  is  not,  by  any 
means  the  largest  cave,  but  the  largest  underground 
passage  by  which  lava  formerly  flowed  that  has  been 
explored.  It  was  formed  by  the  lava  filling  the  floor 
of  the  valley  and  cooling  on  top  and  then  draining  out 
underneath  to  some  lower  level.  It  was  in  exactly  this 
same  manner  that  the  great  lava  flow  came  down  from 
Skjalbreith,  filled  Thingvellir  and  then  drained  out  and 
left  the  great  plain  between  the  mountains  to  fall  to 
form  that  wonderful  formation  previously  described 
in  chapter  six. 

Vergil  says, — "facilis  descensus  Averno"  but  we  did 
not  find  it  easy  to  descend  into  the  Averno  of  Surtur, 
nor  to  follow  the  cavern  once  we  had  made  the  descent. 
We   purchased  candles  at  Akureyri   for  this   purpose 


REYKHOLT  283 

and  lighting  them  we  entered  the  chamber  with  one  in 
each  hand;  there  being  three  of  us  we  had  six  candle 
power.  "How  far  that  little  candle  throws  his  beams," 
of  Shakespeare,  was  all  too  short  a  distance  in  this 
blackness.  A  little  beyond  the  entrance  is  a  side  pass- 
age which  we  entered  and  where  we  found  hundreds 
of  bones  of  sheep  and  horses.  This  was  the  place  form- 
erly occupied  by  the  above  mentioned  outlaws  and  thus 
far  the  legend  above  related  is  a  truth.  There  being 
no  animals  in  Iceland  large  enough  to  carry  flesh  into 
this  corner  it  is  clear  that  they  were  taken  here  by 
the  hand  of  man.  There  are  many  hundreds  of  them 
showing  what  an  extensive  use  was  made  of  the  retreat 
in  the  old  days.  Henderson  mentions  them  in  18 17 
and  Olafsen  and  Povelsen  found  them  in  1753  so  there 
is  no  doubt  of  their  great  age  and  we  may  justly  con- 
clude that  these  bones  are  those  left  by  the  outlaws. 
As  I  write  I  have  two  of  them  before  me,  one  a 
vertebra  of  a  sheep  and  the  other  a  rib  of  a  pony. 
This  rib  had  been  broken  while  the  horse  was  living 
and  had  been  healed  again  as  the  callosity  testifies. 
As  I  look  at  this  ancient  bone  I  often  wonder  what  a 
story  it  could  relate  of  the  cave  where  it  has  rested 
these  hundreds  of  years  and  of  the  deeds  of  that  law- 
less age. 

For  the  first  quarter  of  a  mile  the  floor  of  the  cave 
is  strewn  with  great  basaltic  plinths  that  have  fallen 
from  the  roof  from  time  to  time.  Each  stone  was 
damp,  dripping  wet  or  coated  with  ice  from  the  water 
that  has  percolated  through  the  roof.  The  blocks 
were  so  large  that  in  climbing  over  them  we  frequently 
found  ourselves  in  holes  up  to  the  waist  and  as  our 
candles  gave  only  a  baleful  glimmer  it  was  difficult 
to  make  progress.  One  can  not  step  down  into  these 
holes  without  first  assuring  himself  where  the  bottom 
is.     Once  down  he  must  crawl  up  over  the  slippery 


284  ICELAND 

stones  on  the  opposite  side. 

The  cavern  runs  straight  as  if  laid  out  with  a  the- 
odolite and  the  roof  is  arched  with  plinths  and  the 
walls  are  covered  in  places  with  patches  of  lava  stalacti- 
tes, which  spread  their  nets  of  lace-like  lava  in  strange 
fantastic  forms.  The  dome  is  from  forty  to  sixty  feet 
high  and  the  cavern  is  about  thirty  feet  in  width.  As 
we  proceeded  we  found  more  and  more  the  deficiency 
of  our  candles  in  giving  sufficient  light  for  us  to  take 
advantage  of  the  way,  if  indeed  there  is  any  advantage 
of  one  place  over  another. 

After  a  weary  climb  over  the  slippery  rocks  we  came 
to  the  reaches  of  ice,  the  accumulations  of  water  that 
seep  through  the  vault.  Here  the  roof  is  hung  with 
ice  stalactites  that  often  extend  from  the  dome  to  the 
floor  and  present  a  wonderful  sight,  for  the  light  of  the 
candles,  which  refused  to  reflect  from  the  blackened 
walls,  glitters  and  plays  on  the  ice  in  a  beautiful  man- 
ner. Great  stalagmites  of  ice  stand  out  of  the  murky 
gloom  like  spectres  of  the  departed  outlaws  who 
haunted  these  underground  chambers  in  the  ancient 
day  of  Iceland's  lawlessness.  We  fastened  the  candles 
in  the  top  of  these  huge  white  candlesticks  and  made 
a  flashlight  of  the  ice  wall  before  us,  which  had  brought 
us  to  an  abrupt  stop  and  where  the  journeys  of  most  of 
the  tourists  end.  The  vapor  hung  heavily  in  the  freez- 
ing air  and  the  smoke  from  the  candle  flame,  in  the 
absolute  quiet  of  the  air,  hung  suspended  or  twined  in 
long,  curling  bands  of  moisture  laden  smoke,  which 
assumed  fantastic  forms,  reminding  us  of  the  wraiths 
that  disturb  the  midnight  slumbers  of  guilty  dreamers 
in  the  castle-haunted  dungeons  of  mediaeval  days. 

At  first  it  seemed  impossible  for  us  to  scale  the  ice 
wall  with  any  means  at  our  disposal  but  by  dint  of  much 
exertion  it  was  accomplished.  We  knew  that  Povelsen 
in  his  visit  and  later  Henderson,  had  deposited  coins 


REYKHOLT  285 

in  the  cairns  which  Povelsen  had  built  at  the  far  end 
of  this  cave.  We  had  brought  with  us  two  Lincoln 
cents  of  the  date  of  19 10  for  the  express  purpose  of 
placing  them  in  the  cairn.  61afur  ascended  on  my 
shoulders  and  gripping  the  lava  stalactites  on  the  wall 
managed  to  ascend.  With  his  feet  engaged  in  the 
crevices  of  the  wall,  he  reached  down  and  drew  up  Mrs. 
Russell,  who  stood  on  my  shoulders.  The  two  then 
formed  a  living  chain  by  which  I  climbed  to  the  top 
of  the  ice.  Under  the  ice  wall  there  was  some  water 
but  the  passage  was  too  long  and  the  ice  columns  too 
near  together  for  a  passage  in  this  direction.  Once  on 
the  top  the  way  became  easier.  The  ice  sloped  in  a 
gentle  declivity  to  the  floor  of  the  tunnel  and  when  we 
left  it  we  found  a  continuation  of  the  heavy  blocks  of 
stone  for  some  distance.  This  was  followed  by  finer 
material  and  eventually  by  sand  which  made  the  walk- 
ing much  better.  At  the  end  of  an  hour  of  hard  labor 
we  arrived  at  the  end  of  the  tunnel  and  found  the  an- 
cient cairn.  We  removed  the  capstone  and  with  the  wax 
of  our  candles  cemented  the  two  Lincoln  cents,  left  our 
cards,  replaced  the  capstone  and  retraced  our  weary 
way. 

The  return  was  as  arduous  as  the  inward  journey,  for 
we  had  slipped  over  the  icy  rocks  and  into  the  holes  so 
often  that  our  woolen  gloves  were  cut  to  threads  and 
our  boots  still  show  the  scars  of  those  ignominious 
slides.  Nowhere  else  in  Iceland  have  I  ever  felt  the 
least  fear  of  danger,  neither  in  fording  the  glacial  rivers, 
in  the  terrible  deserts,  on  the  ice  mountains,  nor  in  sleep- 
ing in  the  crater  of  Askja,  Bowl,  with  ice  beside  my 
tent  and  columns  of  steam  and  sulfur  gases  rising  from 
the  solfatara  in  front,  but,  in  this  cave  the  thought  was 
ever  present  with  me, — "those  blocks  of  stone,  some  of 
them  weighing  a  ton,  each  has  fallen  from  that  lofty 
dome,  when  will  the  next  one  fall?"     The  experience 


286  ICELAND 

was  worth  all  the  labor  for  we  had  been  in  the  actual 
home  of  the  outlaws,  had  worked  our  way  to  the  far  end 
of  the  longest  and  grandest  lava  tunnel  known,  we  had 
seen  the  beautiful  ice  barrier,  beautiful  as  the  altar 
screen  in  the  great  cathedrals  of  Europe  and  we  had 
left  positive  proof  of  our  labor  in  the  ancient  cairn. 
No  one  should  omit  this  visit  if  he  is  near  this  portion 
of  Iceland.  When  he  has  issued  from  the  darkness 
into  the  sunlight,  if  he  desires  more  of  the  same 
experience  he  will  find  a  similar  tunnel  not  far  from 
Surtshellir,  which  was  discovered  in  1909. 

That  night  we  reached  Kalmungstunga,  a  prosperous 
farm  within  the  shadows  of  Geitlands  Jokull,  Goat- 
Land,  and  Ok  Jokull,  Yoke.  This  is  a  new  farm  house 
with  spacious  and  airy  rooms  and  well  furnished.  The 
farmer  is  obliging  though  he  has  a  reputation  of  over- 
charging his  guests.  After  a  well  cooked  dinner  we 
repaired  to  rest,  not  having  slept  more  than  three 
hours  out  of  the  last  forty-eight.  A  little  after  mid- 
night I  was  aroused  by  Mrs.  Russell,  who  was  say- 
ing :— 

"There  is  some  one  in  our  room." 

After  a  little  I  awoke  sufficiently  to  see  a  man  stand- 
ing at  the  foot  of  the  bed  occupied  by  Mrs.  Russell.  I 
asked, — 

"Who  is  there  and  what  is  wanted?" 

"It  is  61afur.  The  Governor  of  Iceland  with  his 
daughter  has  arrived  and  he  wishes  a  bed,1'  replied 
the  guide. 

"Well,  let  him  have  one  if  he  can  find  it.  We  are 
too  tired  to  give  up  these." 

"The  farmer  does  not  want  them,  but  there  is  one 
folded  up  under  your  bed.  If  I  can  get  it  the  Gover- 
nor will  have  it  set  up  in  the  hall  and  sleep  there." 

So  saying,  he  took  away  the  bed  and  we  were  soon 
asleep  and  did  not  awaken  till  the  Governor  sent  word 


REYKHOLT  287 

to  us  at  ten  in  the  morning  that  he  would  like  our  com- 
pany at  breakfast.  The  farmer's  wife  prepared  * 
special  breakfast,  cooking  a  young  lamb.  The  good 
wife  brought  our  her  best  dishes  and  loaded  the  table 
with  her  choicest  food,  for  even  in  Iceland,  it  is  not 
every  morning  that  the  Governor  takes  breakfast  with 
the  peasants. 

The  farmer  at  Kalmnngstunga,  in  former  days,  was 
accused  by  English  writers  cf  overcharging  travellers. 
In  comparison  with  other  Icelandic  rates  it  must  be 
stated  that  there  is  still  some  truth  in  the  assertion. 
However,  he  is  enterprising,  has  built  a  fine  large  house 
with  many  arrangements  for  comfort  and  all  his  sup- 
plies have  to  be  transported  from  the  coast  on  the 
backs  of  the  ponies.  These  things  are  expensive.  If 
the  traveller  enjoys  unusual  comfort  here  or  elsewhere 
in  Iceland  it  is  no  more  than  common  justness  that  he 
should  pay  unusual  prices  for  his  accommodation.  On 
this  farm  there  has  recently  been  constructed  a  re-in- 
forced  concrete  stable,  spacious  enough  for  housing 
500  sheep  besides  numerous  horses  and  cows.  The 
Governor  pointed  out  to  me  the  signs  of  prosperity 
while  we  were  saddling  the  ponies  and  stated  that  more 
of  the  farmers  might  do  as  well  if  they  had  the  enter- 
prise. I  might  say  with  reference  to  our  own  bill  at 
this  farm  that  it  was  moderate  but  this  is  possiblv  due 
to  the  fact  that  I  had  been  of  some  assistance  in  treating 
one  of  his  favorite  ponies  that  had  a  bad  saddle  gall 
on  the  shoulder. 

It  was  one  in  the  afternoon  when  we  parted  with 
the  Governor  to  meet  him  some  days  later  in  his  beau- 
tiful home  in  Reykjavik.  We  then  rode  down  the 
green  slope,  and  through  the  birch  copse  to  the  river, 
which  we  found  easily  fordable,  though  it  has  a  bad 
reputation.     Looking  up   from   the   hayfield,   with   its 


288  ICELAND 

harvest  in  the  full  gathering,  with  men  and  women 
busy,  the  ice-crowned  pyramids  stand, — 

"Like  giants  clad  in  armor  blue, 
With  helmets  of  a  silver  hue." 

This  view  is  of  great  interest  and  beauty  and  I  gazed 
longingly  to  the  peaks  that  enclose  Thorisdalr,  ThiePs- 
Dale,  and  desired  to  climb  those  ridges  of  tumbled  mo- 
raine and  examine  that  great  wall  of  eternal  ice  that 
hangs  above.  The  lack  of  sufficient  time  made  it  im- 
possible. This  pleasure  was  experienced  in  19 13  when 
I  came  into  Kaldidalr,  Cold- Valley  from  the  opposite 
direction,  having  pitched  my  camp  at  Brunnar,  Springs, 
for  several  days.  This  view  from  Kalmungstunga 
leaves  no  doubt  in  the  mind  of  the  traveller  that  he  is 
in  the  land  of  ice;  but  when  he  turns  towards  the  west, 
passes  into  the  green  valley  of  the  Hvitd  and  comes  into 
close  proximity  with  the  numerous  hot  springs  scat- 
tered over  the  plains  and  along  the  banks  of  the  river 
a  more  temperate  climate  is  suggested. 

Having  crossed  the  Geitlandsd,  Goat-River,  we  fol- 
lowed it  down  to  the  Barnafoss,  Child-Falls,  so  named 
because  of  the  drowning  of  some  children  at  this  place 
by  accident.  Some  guide  books  call  these  falls  the 
Geitlandsdfoss,  Goat-River-Falls.  In  ancient  times, 
when  places  were  named  in  Iceland  there  must  have 
been  many  goats  in  various  portions  of  the  country  for 
we  came  across  the  name  in  various  places;  thus  there 
are  several  "goat"  mountains,  "goat"  gullies,  "goat" 
rivers,  etc.  Personally  I  have  seen  one  flock  of  goats 
only  in  the  entire  range  of  my  travels  and  that  was  near 
Ljosavatn.  The  explanation  is  that  they  will  not  stand 
the  wet  climate  as  well  as  the  sheep.  When  the  cold 
driving  rains  sweep  down  the  mountain  slopes  the 
goats  run  to  shelter  while  the  sheep  will  continue  their 
feeding. 


REYKHOLT  289 

At  these  falls  the  water,  in  a  series  of  three  strong 
leaps,  drops  over  one  hundred  feet  into  the  canyon. 
The  rock  formation  at  this  point  is  of  interest  to  the  ge- 
ologist, for  there  is  a  large  mass  of  metamorphosed  ob- 
sidian. It  is  the  only  rock  formation  of  this  character 
that  I  have  ever  witnessed,  either  in  position  or  as 
samples  in  a  collection  of  minerals  and  rocks  in  science 
museums.  An  examination  of  this  formation  leads 
to  the  following  conclusion.  In  an  early  eruption  a 
large  mass  of  obsidian  was  formed  at  this  place.  Dur- 
ing a  more  recent  lava  flow  the  heat  of  the  adjacent 
flowing  rock  rendered  this  mass  of  obsidian  plastic; 
this  caused  it  to  stick  to  the  passing  lava  stream,  like 
molten  glass,  and  it  was  thus  pulled,  twisted  and 
stretched  into  its  present  shape. 

This  is  a  lovely  series  of  fosses.  The  water  from 
the  rapidly  melting  glaciers  pours  out  of  the  narrow 
confines  of  the  basaltic  canyon  and  at  the  foot  of  each 
fall  forms  a  grand  basin  of  emerald  green  water  in  a 
weird  rock  setting.  Towards  Kalmungstunga  there  is  a 
good  sized  forest,  for  Iceland,  and  the  grass  plains, 
through  which  this  canyon  cuts  a  great  gray  gash,  form 
a  real  oasis  in  this  elevated  lava  waste,  shut  in  by  tower- 
ing mountains  capped  eternally  with  adamantine  ice. 

But  by  far  the  greatest  interest  here  is  the  series  of 
waterfalls,  at  the  foot  of  the  Barnafoss,  which  pour 
out  of  the  lava  in  a  half-mile  series  of  cascades  and  wa- 
terspouts. North  of  Kalmungstunga  the  waters  from 
Eyriks  Jokull  flow  into  the  lava  and  doubtless  into  sub- 
terranean channels  like  the  tunnel  of  Surtshcllir.  This 
river  flows  many  miles  under  ground  and  reappears 
at  this  point  beside  the  brink  of  the  Hvitd  canyon.  The 
rock  formation  which  makes  this  strange  waterfall  pos- 
sible is  as  follows: — 

A  rift  in  the  ancient  basalt,  doubtless  the  result  of  an 
earthquake,  formed  the  canyon  of  the  Geitlandsd;  later, 


29o  ICELAND 

another  flow  of  lava  swept  down  the  valley  and  stopped 
at  the  very  brink  of  this  rift  so  that  two  great  lava 
flows  stand  in  sight,  one  above  the  other.  Between 
these  two  sheets  of  lava  flows  the  lost  river  from  the 
glaciers  and  here  it  spurts  out  in  a  long  series  of  cas- 
cades side  by  side.  It  is  one  of  the  finest  sights  in 
Iceland  and  one  that  the  traveller  in  Iceland  usually 
misses  because  it  is  off  the  regular  trail.  The  guides 
do  not  always  call  attention  to  it  and  I  fear  that  many 
of  them  do  not  know  of  its  existence.  It  is  a  fact  that 
few  Icelanders  know  their  own  country,  even  the  por- 
tion of  it  which  they  sometimes  attempt  to  show  to 
tourists.  There  are  a  few  guides  who  know  the  travel- 
led portion  and  know  it  thoroughly;  these  men  look 
askance  upon  their  fellows  who  act  as  guides  and  do 
not  know  every  detail  of  the  route,  its  history  and  its 
legends.  The  real  Icelandic  guide  will,  if  you  en- 
courage him  the  least  bit,  show  every  point  of  interest 
and  relate  all  the  history  and  the  legends.  A  story  is 
told  by  the  guides  at  Reykjavik  of  one  of  their  fellow 
countrymen  who  attempted  to  guide  a  man  from  Geysir 
to  Gullfoss,  a  distance  of  from  one  and  a  half  to  two 
hours  ride.  After  wandering  about  the  country  all  day 
and  a  part  of  the  night  they  returned  to  Geysir  with- 
out having  seen  the  falls.  He  will  never  hear  the  end 
of  it  in  Reykjavik.  We  have  Olafur  to  thank  for 
many  profitable  hours  in  his  beloved  land.  The  real 
guide  loves  every  spot  to  which  he  takes  you  and  he 
feels  that  there  is  nothing  like  it,  nothing  half  so  good 
anywhere  else  in  the  world.  The  enthusiastic  guide, 
filled  with  the  love  of  his  country  and  steeped  in  its 
traditions  is  a  boon  to  a  traveller,  no  matter  in  what 
land  he  seeks  new  scenes. 

It  was  late  when  we  left  the  falls  and  so  we  hastened 
across  the  rolling,  grass-grown  hills  to  Reykholt,  Steam- 
Stead.     Down  the  long  slope  and  across  the  usual  grass 


REYKHOLT  291 

bog  we  rode  and  into  the  enclosure  by  the  house  where 
we  were  welcomed  and  given  comfortable  quarters  by 
the  pastor.  This  is  historic  ground,  the  cite  of  the 
stead  of  Snorri  Sturlason,  uThe  Heroditus  of  the 
north." 

Snorri  was  born  in  1 1 78,  when  only  three  years  of 
age  he  went  to  fostering  at  the  home  of  Saemund,  the 
Wise,  at  Oddi.  Saemund  died  when  Snorri  was  nine- 
teen. Snorri's  father  had  considerable  property  but 
after  his  death,  Snorri's  mother,  described  as  a  ugay 
young  widow"  wasted  the  substance  and  left  the  son 
to  enter  life's  activities  with  little.  In  1 1 99  Snorri 
married  the  daughter  of  Bersi,  the  Wealthy,  who  lived 
at  Borg,  the  home  of  the  famous  Skallagrim.  Snorri 
was  now  twenty  years  old  and  he  entered  directly  into 
public  affairs.  He  early  became  embroiled  in  partisan 
feuds  but  continued  to  gain  power  and  following.  This 
lead  to  his  attaining  the  position  of  the  Godi  of  his  dis- 
trict. The  Go3i  was  a  priestly  ruler  whose  power  and 
influence  was  supreme.  If  one  desires  to  know  more  of 
the  life  and  functions  of  this  ancient  official  of  the  early 
days  of  Iceland  he  can  get  no  better  account  than  that 
left  in  the  writings  of  Snorri. 

Snorri  at  this  time  obtained  the  stead  of  Reykholt  as 
a  freehold  and  at  once  separated  from  his  wife.  The 
date  of  this  occurence  is  prior  to  1209  for  we  read 
that  the  Bishop  of  Holar  spent  the  "winter  of  1209 
at  Reykholt  with  Snorri  Sturlason."  He  had  thus  won 
the  choicest  holding  in  the  entire  valley  as  well  as  the 
enviable  position  of  Godi.  "He  now  became  a  great 
chieftain  with  ample  means."  In  12 15  he  was  elected 
Speaker-at-Law,  at  the  early  age  of  thirty-seven  and  for 
a  term  of  three  years.  This  was  the  highest  honor  in 
the  land. 

Snorri  was  a  statesman,  a  poet,  a  scholar  and  a  his- 
torian.    It  is  in  the  latter  capacity  that  he  is  of  the  most 


292  ICELAND 

interest  to  us.  In  121 8  he  went  to  Norway  and  was 
made  a  welcome  guest  at  the  homes  of  several  of  the 
Earls  and  at  the  court  of  King  Hakon  on  account  of  his 
winning  ways,  his  ready  wit,  his  commanding  presence 
and  the  songs  that  he  composed  in  honor  of  his  friends. 
He  tarried  two  winters  in  Norway  and  it  was  during  the 
second  winter  that  his  love  of  wealth  and  power  was 
used  by  the  King  as  a  lever  to  influence  him  to  betray 
Iceland  into  the  handb  of  the  Norwegian  monarch. 
Snorri  and  his  warlike  brothers  had  often  been  em- 
broiled in  feuds  especially  with  the  masters  of  the  trad- 
ing ships  from  Norway  and  from  Orkney.  From  his 
position  as  Gobi,  Snorri  had  the  power  to  fix  the  prices 
and  he  often  took  advantage  of  his  power  to  enrich 
himself  at  the  expense  of  the  foreigners.  The  result 
of  these  troubles  was  that  an  armed  expedition  was  to 
be  sent  to  Iceland  by  the  orders  of  King  Hakon  under 
the  conduct  of  Earle  Skitli  to  avenge  their  countrymen 
who  had  been  put  to  death  in  Iceland.  Snorri  knew 
what  would  be  the  outcome  of  this  expedition,  how  it 
would  develop  into  a  long  and  hostile  strife  between 
the  two  countries  and  with  most  persuasive  language 
he  assuaged  the  anger  of  the  King  and  his  Earle  and 
held  out  prospects  that  Icelanders  might  become  the 
vassals  of  Hakon.  This  suited  the  King,  so  Snorri 
was  made  a  "landed-man,"  the  highest  position  to  which 
one  of  the  King's  subjects  could  be  elevated.  Snorri, 
as  a  vassal,  immediately  gave  to  the  King  all  of  his 
great  estates  in  Iceland.  The  King  immediately  re- 
turned them  all  to  Snorri  as  his  "landed-man"  and  in 
the  form  of  a  Royal  Grant.  This  swapping  for  an 
empty  title  was  the  greatest  mistake  of  Snorri's  life, 
and  one  that  eventually  led  to  his  premature  death. 
The  Icelanders  never  knew  the  real  reason  for  this  act 
and  they  could  bear  no  treason.  Snorri,  with  all 
of  his  shrewdness,  did  not  forsee  the  outcome.    In  1220 


Arhver,  River  Hoi  Springs  near  Reykholt. 


Reykholt,  Ancient  Stead  oj  Snorri,  Typical  Icelandic 

Farm. 


REYKHOLT  293 

he  returned  to  Iceland  with  great  gifts  from  both  Earle 
and  King.  When  he  landed  in  the  Westmann  Islands 
in  pomp  the  people  became  suspicious  of  him  and  made 
slurring  jests  about  him  even  making  parodies  upon 
his  own  poems  which  cut  Snorri  to  the  quick. 

But  he  recovered  his  power  and  again  won  the  con- 
fidence and  esteem  of  nearly  all  of  the  people  and  in 
1222  they  again  made  him  Speaker  for  the  second  time. 
It  is  quite  probable  that  Snorri  repented  of  his  plan  to 
betray  Iceland  to  Norway  and  we  know  that  his  excuse 
was  to  save  Iceland  from  immediate  invasion.  It  is 
to  be  regretted  that  Icelanders  did  not  fully  understand 
his  reason.  Most  of  Snorri's  troubles  came  from  feudal 
strife  with  his  own  relatives,  especially  his  nephew, 
Sturla.  At  one  time  this  ungrateful  nephew  appropri- 
ated all  of  his  uncle's  estates  in  Borg  and  endeavored 
to  make  himself  the  mighty  man  of  Iceland.  We  can 
not  enter  into  the  long  conflict,  how  the  people  took 
sides  with  both  parties,  how  a  thousand  armed  men 
marched  down  on  peaceful  Borg,  how  Snorri  in  sorrow 
returned  to  Norway,  tarried  awhile  and  then  came  back 
to  his  home  in  Borg  only  to  meet  death  in  the  cellar 
of  his  own  house.  It  may  all  be  read  in  the  story  writ- 
ten by  his  nephew,  Sturla  Thordson. 

Snorri  was  a  man  of  peaceful  disposition,  avoiding 
arms  when  arbitration  could  be  employed,  a  man  of 
business  but  not  a  man  of  action  as  men  were  active  in 
his  day.  He  did  not  choose  the  turmoil  of  political 
strife  into  which  he  was  drawn.  It  was  love  of  wealth 
and  vanity  that  led  to  his  weakness  at  the  court  of 
Hakon  and  which  was  misunderstood  in  Iceland  and 
which  gave  his  enemies  an  opportunity.  This  was  the 
one  great  mistake  of  his  life  and  he  endeavored  to 
atone  for  the  weakness,  but  his  enemies,  though  they 
never  knew  the  full  story  of  this  affair,  never  forgave 
him.     He  paid  for  his  error  by  being  hewn  to  pieces 


294  ICELAND 

in  the  cellar  of  his  home  at  Reykholt  on  September 
22,  1 24 1.  The  mound  of  the  great  house  that  was 
pulled  down  upon  his  remains  has  never  been  disturbed 
and  the  beautiful  marguerites  have  bloomed  above  it  for 
centuries. 

As  a  historian  Snorri  will  always  hold  high  rank. 
The  Heimskringla,  the  Story  of  the  Kings  of  Norway, 
is  a  faithful  picture  of  the  times,  impartial,  straightfor- 
ward,— it  is  the  story  and  not  the  historian  that  the 
reader  has  before  him  when  he  opens  these  pages. 
Only  once  in  that  long  history  is  there  any  comment 
by  the  author.  There  is  none  of  the  so  called  "philos- 
ophy  of  history"  which  has  fogged  so  many  historical 
pages  that  have  been  written  in  modern  days.  Writers 
may  well  take  a  lesson  from  Snorri,  who  "let  facts  de- 
liver the  verdict,  keeping  his  own  judgment  to  himself." 
Here  in  the  dale  of  Reykholt,  beside  his  steaming 
springs  and  with  his  flocks  and  herds  about  him,  Snorri 
writes  of  the  great  kings  of  Norway,  of  their  wars  and 
their  wanderings,  their  labors  for  Christianity  and  the 
uplifting  of  their  subjects.  He  bears  us  away  to  Scot- 
land and  to  England  and  often  to  Ireland,  we  learn 
of  the  correspondence  with  the  Emperor  Frederick  and 
King  Louis  of  France,  we  learn  of  James  of  Aragon, 
of  William  the  Conqueror  and  Alphonse  of  Castile, — 
he  takes  us  to  far  away  Algeria  to  Tunis  and  to  Greece, 
to  Venice  and  Constantinople  and  to  holy  Jerusalem. 
In  1300  he  was  described  as  ua  man  to  our  knowledge 
most  wise  and  fair-minded." 

Snorri's  language  is  simple,  yet  dignified,  clear  in 
thought  and  vivid  in  the  picture  portrayed  and  in 
scenes  described.  His  sentences  are  short  and  graphic, 
clear  and  concise.  His  dialogs  are  frequent  and  to 
the  point.  Silence,  where  it  is  sure  to  arouse  the  in- 
terest of  the  reader,  is  artfully  employed  as  is  shown 
in  the  kidnapping  of  Harek  and  in  the  mysterious  loss 


REYKHOLT  295 

of  two  of  King  Olaf's  ships  at  Faroe.  In  humor,  also, 
Snorri  is  a  master  and  brings  into  his  story  bits  of  mirth 
and  wit  that  make  his  pages  sparkle  and  give  point  to 
the  story  he  is  writing.  Witness  the  good  wife  who  ob- 
jected to  the  King's  using  the  middle  of  the  towel  in 
the  morning  to  wipe  his  face  when  he  should  have  used 
the  lower  end  in  the  morning,  the  middle  at  noon  and 
the  top  at  night,  thus  saving  her  two  towels.  His  wit 
and  his  stories  give  point  to  his  writings  and  will  in- 
sure their  life  as  long  as  people  love  to  dwell  upon  the 
customs  of  their  predecessors.  Impartial,  faithful, 
clear,  Snorri  brings  the  story  of  the  ancient  times 
among  the  Norsemen  down  to  his  own  day,  weaving 
into  his  warp  the  threads  of  fact  that  bound  the  Viking 
to  the  British  Isles,  the  sunny  Mediterranean  and  the 
Holy  Land  as  well  as  to  his  beloved  Iceland.  He  has 
erected  for  himself  an  enduring  monument. 

It  is  a  tumbled  mound,  this  grass-grown  pile  at 
Reykholt,  but  it  is  all  that  is  left  of  Snorri's  stately 
manor.  In  the  quiet  of  the  evening  I  stood  upon  the 
heap,  and  the  past  of  Iceland's  history  rushed  before 
me,  its  long  Viking  period,  the  coming  of  the  Cross  and 
the  troublesome  times  that  followed;  in  the  story  of 
Snorri  I  had  learned  of  Norway's  ancient  days  and 
Iceland's  matchless  heroes.  It  is  the  same  quiet 
meadow  at  my  feet  and  the  same  blue  ridge  in  the  dis- 
tance that  met  the  gaze  of  Snorri,  the  people  are  the 
same  in  race  and  customs  but  in  other  things  how- 
changed.  The  Cross  has  wrought  its  full  influence. 
Were  this  mound  in  other  lands  the  spade  would  long 
since  have  explored  its  recesses  in  search  of  relics  and 
mementoes  of  this  great  man.  It  is  sacred  to  the  Ice- 
lander and  has  never  been  disturbed. 

Beside  the  mound  is  Sttorrilaug,  Snorri's  Bath.  Next 
to  the  Heimskringla  the  bath  is  his  greatest  monument 
and   serves   better   to   perpetuate   the    memory   of   the 


296  ICELAND 

Sage  of  Reykholt  than  any  thing  that  other  hands 
could  have  wrought.  It  is  circular  in  form,  fifteen  feet 
in  diameter  and  constructed  of  split  stones  which  were 
fitted  in  an  exact  manner  and  joined  by  means  of  a 
cement  made  on  the  spot  by  Snorri  himself  out  of  the 
pulverized  geyserite.  The  floor  of  the  bath  is  of  split 
tufa  and  cemented  with  care.  A  stone  bench,  capable 
of  seating  thirty  persons  is  built  around  the  inside  of 
the  bath  with  the  wall  for  a  back.  A  hot  spring,  called 
Scribla,  is  located  500  feet  from  the  bath  and  from 
Scribla  to  the  bath  Snorri  constructed  an  underground 
passage  out  of  stones  all  carefully  cemented  together. 
In  1733  this  conduit  was  shaken  by  an  earthquake  and 
the  Rev.  Finn  Jonson,  Bishop  of  Skalholt,  repaired 
it.  Aside  from  this  incident,  the  bath  stands  to-day  as 
when  Snorri  was  killed  beside  it.  The  steps  from  his 
house  led  directly  down  into  the  bath.  It  is  a  master- 
piece of  work  that  remains  intact  after  the  centuries 
so  that  one  may  turn  on  the  hot  water  from  Scribla 
and  use  it  to-day  as  did  Snorri  during  the  first  half  of 
the  thirteenth  century. 

The  valley  of  Reykholt  contains  many  excellent  hot 
springs,  some  of  which  have  lost  part  of  their  former 
power  and  do  not  spout  because  of  the  disarrangement 
of  their  tubes  by  recent  earthquakes.  On  a  quiet  day 
steam  rises  from  many  places  in  the  valley  and  along 
the  banks  of  the  river.  There  is  one  spring  of  unique 
formation  and  peculiar  in  its  situation,  the  Jhver, 
River-Hot-Spring.  It  is  in  the  middle  of  the  river  that 
divides  the  valley.  The  river  is  broad  but  shallow 
and  the  water  is  cold.  In  the  middle  of  the  stream 
rises  the  mound  of  the  hot  spring  several  feet  above 
the  water.  This  mound  contains  three  orifices  out  of 
which  boiling  water  pours  vigorously.  We  waded  out 
to  this  hot  mound  and  climbed  to  the  top.  There  is 
no   danger   of  being   scalded   because   the   springs   no 


REYKHOLT  297 

longer  spout  as  in  former  days  on  account  of  the  be- 
fore mentioned  earthquake,  which  has  disturbed  the 
tubes.  In  place  of  the  former  periodical  spouts  of 
hot  water  there  is  now  a  continuous  flow  in  which  the 
water  rises  one  or  two  feet  above  the  mouth  of  the 
tubes  and  escapes  with  much  spluttering  and  accom- 
panied with  large  volumns  of  steam.  These  tubes  are 
a  foot  or  more  in  diameter.  It  is  a  singular  location 
for  a  hot  spring  but  there  is  another  phenomenon  even 
more  surprising.  Below  the  mound  of  geyserite  in  the 
channel  of  the  river  there  is  a  long  series  of  holes  in 
the  river  bed  out  of  which  boiling  water  spurts  with 
such  violence  in  places  as  to  eject  steam  up  through  the 
cold  water.  Our  ponies  in  fording  this  stream  were 
quite  shy  of  these  hot  holes  in  the  bed  of  the  river  and 
insisted  on  going  far  down  stream. 

The  valley  is  rich  in  grass,  with  many  fine  herds  of 
cattle  and  flocks  of  sheep.  It  was  one  of  these  rich 
pasture  lands  at  the  foot  of  the  snowy  mountains,  in 
Iceland  that  led  Henderson,  who  realized  how  depen- 
dent was  the  farmer  upon  the  grass,  to  quote  from 
Proverbs  as  follows: — 

"Be  thou  diligent  to  know  the  state  of  thy  flocks 
and  look  well  to  thy  herds;  for  riches  are  not  forever, 
nor  doth  the  crown  endure  to  every  generation.  The 
hay  appeareth  and  the  tender  grass  showeth  itself,  and 
the  herbs  of  the  mountains  are  gathered.  The  lambs 
are  for  thy  clothing,  and  the  goats  are  the  price  of  thy 
field.  And  thou  shalt  have  goat's  milk  enough  for  thy 
food,  for  the  food  of  thy  household  and  for  the  main- 
tenance of  thy  maidens." 

Yes,  Iceland,  the  grass  is  thine  and  the  flocks  are 
thine.  Nature  has  cruelly  deprived  thee  of  mines  and 
forests,  of  warmth  for  cultivating  thy  rich  soil ;  but 
she  has  peopled  thee  with  a  noble  race,  cradled  amidst 
thy  fire-born  hills  which  are  crowned  with  everlasting 


298  ICELAND 

ice.  She  has  given  to  thee  sufficient  grass  for  thy  nu- 
merous flocks  that  thou  mayest  be  clothed  and  fed.  An 
Arctic  ocean  "laves  the  feet  of  the  White  Lady"  and 
its  every  billow  teems  with  the  choicest  of  fish.  In 
exchange  for  these  the  merchant  brings  to  thy  marts 
those  products  of  modern  life  which  Europe  calls  neces- 
sities but  which  to  thee  are  luxuries. 

A  land  of  wonder  is  thy  birthright,  marvellously 
wrought  by  fire  and  ice.  It  appeals  to  him  who  four 
times  has  visited  thy  shore  and  has  explored  the  inmost 
recesses  of  thy  deserts,  it  appealed  to  thy  ancestors 
ten  centuries  since  as  a  haven  of  liberty;  mightily  it 
appeals  to  thee  to-day.  Thy  sons  upon  Dakota's 
plains,  thy  daughters  by  the  Winnipeg, — truants  from 
thy  hallowed  dales  and  sloping  greens, — oft  feel  the 
wrenching  of  the  heartstrings  and  oft  turn  back  to  fath- 
erland and  home.  Thy  thousand  years  and  more  of 
warfare  with  the  elements  and  thine  own  internal 
strife,  thy  centuries  of  thraldom  to  priestly  power  and 
greed  of  foreign  merchant,  thy  years  of  famine  and 
devastation  by  shaking  earth  and  burning  mountain 
have  left  their  mark  deep  graven  in  thy  forehead.  But, 
— Thou  art  FREE.  Before  thee  the  future  opens  with 
promise  her  ever  widening  portals,  a  promise  radiant 
as  the  bow  of  Baldar  which  oft  spans  thy  misty  vales. 
Let  not  internal  strife,  the  copying  of  foreign  fashions 
and  the  jealously  of  prospering  neighbor  be  thy  undo- 
ing. Out  of  the  terrible  past  hast  thou  come  with  many 
a  reprimand  and  many  a  sign  to  point  the  way  which 
thou  shouldst  go,  as  plainly  as  thy  vardr  guide  the  fog- 
bound traveller  upon  thy  mountain  moors. 

If  a  foreigner,  who  has  long  studied  the  factors  of 
thy  problem  and  knows  something  from  experience  of 
thy  living  struggle,  may  offer  advice  and  not  offend, — 
it  would  be  the  quoted  wisdom  of  Solomon : — 

"Be  thou  diligent  to  know  the  state  of  thy  flocks/' 


REYKHOLT  299 

and  then  the  words  of  the  poet  will  be  thy  experience : — 

"Still,  even  here,  content  can  spread  a  charm, 
Redress  the  clime,  and  all  its  rage  disarm," — 

and  thine  own  saying  will  be  full  of  truth : — 


"ICELAND  IS  THE  BEST  PLACE  ON  WHICH 

THE  SUN  SHINES." 


APPENDIX 

ICELANDIC  PRONUNCIATION 

Accent : — The  stress  is  always  on  the  first  syllable. 
Vowels : — The  vowel  sounds  vary  considerably  from  the 
modern  English  and  much  resemble  the  old  Anglo- 
Saxon.  Some  changes  have  taken  place  in  these 
sounds  since  the  classical  period  of  the  Icelandic 
literature  which  was  in  the  eleventh,  twelfth  and 
thirteenth  centuries. 

The  following  key  will  assist  the  reader  to  pro- 
nounce the  Icelandic  terms  in  this  volume. 

a  is  pronounced  like     A     in     far. 

a 

e 

e 

•  il  II 

'  II  ll 


u  u 

II  (( 

ll  ll 

U  II 

((  u 


ou 

ii 

loud. 

E 

ii 

let. 

YE 

ii 

yellow. 

EE 

ii 

meek. 

I 

ii 

pit. 

OA 

ii 

road. 

U 

ii 

murmur 

EE 

(< 

meet. 

I 

ii 

prize. 

OI 

ii 

coin. 

AY 

ii 

hay. 

AY 

ii 

hay. 

o 
o 

y 

ae 
au 

ey 
ei 

Consonants: — The  alphabet  was  taken  from  the  Latin 
with  the  addition  of  two  characters  P  thorn  and 
8  ith.  The  two  have  the  sound  of  tit  in  thin; 
the  first  is  initial  and  the  second  may  be  in  any 
syllable  if  it  is  not  initial,  as  8  in  SeySisfjorSrJ 
pronounced  say-this-fur-thur. 

The  consonants  have  practically  the  same  values 

301 


302  APPENDIX 

as  in  English  except  the  following,  which  should 

be  noted: — 
f  before  L  or  N  has  the  sound  of  B,  thus, — 

Krafla  is  pronounced  as  if  spelled  Krabia. 

Hrafn,  (raven,)  is  pronounced  as  if  spelled  Hrabn. 
h  is  given  its  breathing  sound, 
h  before  vi  has  the  sound  of  Q,  thus, — 

Hvita  is  pronounced  as  if  spelled  Quee-tow,  o  like 
O  in  cow. 
11  when  L  is  doubled  the  first  L  has  the  sound  of  T, 

thus,  fell  is  pronounced  fell, 
d  is  sounded  like  th  in  thin. 

There  is  a  tendency  among  the  uneducated  people 
to  lisp  or  to  smother  their  words  behind  closed  lips. 
When  spoken  by  an  educated  person  the  language  is 
musical  and  pleasing. 

Page  82,—  Family  Names:— The  system  of  no- 
menclature given  in  Chapter  VII  is  the  prevailing 
one,  still  there  are  a  few  family  names  in  Iceland.  This 
is  due  to  settlers  from  foreign  lands,  who  have  kept 
their  family  names  and  bequeathed  them  to  their  chil- 
dren. As  an  illustration  I  mention  the  Zoega  family, 
which,  if  my  informant  is  correct,  came  from  Italy 
many  years  ago. 

Page  84,— Kdrastadir:  —  Possibly  a  more  prob- 
able derivation  of  this  name  lies  in  the  fact  that  in  the 
early  days  of  the  settlement  of  this  portion  of  the 
country  one  of  the  settlers  bore  this  name,  Kara.  Thus  it 
should  be  translated,  the  stead  or  the  farm  of  Kara. 

Page  89,  —  Oxerd:  —  It  was  not  till  the  summer  of 
1913,  a  year  after  Chapter  VII  was  written,  that  I 
learned  a  most  interesting  thing  about  this  river  so  fa- 
mous  in   Icelandic  history.      It  seems   that  in   ancient 


APPENDIX  303 

days  the  river  followed  a  natural  channel  near  the 
ridge  that  rises  above  the  heath  near  Kdrastadir.  It 
did  not  enter  the  lake,  Thingvallavatn,  by  the  way  of 
Almannagjd  as  it  does  to-day. 

The  Vikings  dispatched  Geitskour  in  965  throughout 
the  country  to  choose  a  suitable  place  for  the  meeting 
of  the  Althing.  After  a  summer  of  travel  he  chose 
this  sunken  valley  and  named  it  {Thingvallir.  I  he  Vik- 
ings then  turned  the  river  from  its  ancient  bed  and 
caused  it  to  tumble  into  this  rift.  What  joy  there  must 
have  been  in  the  hearts  of  those  sturdy  old  fellows  as 
they  stood  on  the  opposite  wall  and  watched  the  tor- 
rent make  its  first  plunge  into  the  abyss!  Hence  Axe 
River,  the  river  whose  channel  was  fashioned  by  their 
axes. 

Page  92, — Measuring  Stone:  —  Various  authors 
have  perpetuated  the  story  of  this  peculiar  stone, 
as  given  in  Chapter  VII,  that  stands  in  the  church 
yard  at  Thingvellir.  They  tell  us,  and  so  do  the  guides, 
that  it  was  the  standard  of  measurement  adopted  by 
an  ancient  Althing,  from  which  all  linear  measures  in 
the  country  were  taken. 

Since  writing  Chapter  VII,  I  have  had  another  op- 
portunity, in  1 9 1 3,  to  examine  this  stone  with  more 
care.  I  emphatically  state  that  it  was  not  made  by  the 
hand  of  man  and  that  the  so-called  "measuring  marks" 
on  it  are  nothing  but  steam  holes  blown  through  it  by 
the  great  pressure  when  the  stone  was  molten  and  cool- 
ing. The  stone  has  been  split  open  and  the  marks  have 
the  appearance  of  having  been  placed  there  by  man. 
To  further  substantiate  this  I  would  refer  to  the  fact 
that  in  1913  Mr.  J.  C.  Angus  of  York,  England,  and 
myself  saw  numerous  blocks  of  lava  in  various  places 
at  My  vain  with  identical  markings.     Mr.  Angus  fully 


3o4  APPENDIX 

agrees  with  me  in  the  above  statement  about  the  "meas- 
uring stone." 

Further,  if  the  people  who  examine  this  stone  in 
the  future  will  go  around  it,  examine  it  on  all  sides  and 
near  the  ground  they  will  find  actual  holes  that  pene- 
trate deeply  into  the  stone  in  several  places.  These 
have  evidently  escaped  the  eyes  of  those  who  like  to 
point  to  this  as  the  "first  standard  of  linear  measure- 
ment ever  prepared  by  the  people  of  northern  Europe." 
It  is  a  pretty  story  and  affords  the  guides  a  lots  of 
amusement, — but  facts  are  facts. 

Page  104,— Bruard:— There  is  another  story  dif- 
fering from  the  one  I  gave  in  Chapter  VIII,  though 
that  one  is  correct,  relative  to  the  way  in  which  this 
river  received  its  name  of  Bridge  River.  In  the  old 
days  there  was  a  natural  lava  arch  spanning  the  stream 
just  below  the  cite  of  the  present  bridge.  The  story 
relates  that  a  woman  on  the  side  of  the  river  nearest 
to  Geysir  was  widely  known  for  her  hospitality.  In 
those  days  it  was  the  custom  of  the  people  to  go  "guest- 
ing" in  the  autumn  and  stay  until  spring.  The  Sagas 
are  replete  with  such  incidents. 

At  length  this  good  lady  became  weary  because  of 
the  large  number  of  her  uninvited  guests  from  across 
the  river.  She  dispatched  two  of  her  thralls  in  the 
autumn  to  break  down  the  lava  arch.  This  they  did 
but  they  both  lost  their  lives  in  the  flood  when  the  arch 
fell.  The  natural  arch  gave  this  stream  the  name  of 
Bridge  River.  The  illustration  facing  page  114  was 
taken  from  the  present  bridge. 

1 

Page  134,  —  Galtalaekur:  —  During  the  severe  earth- 
quake that  preceded  the  eruption  of  Hekla  in  the 
latter  part  of  April  19 13  these  ancient  builrUnps 
were  entirely  demolished.     It  was  one  of  the  oldest  of 


APPENDIX  305 

Icelandic  turf  houses.     It  has  sheltered  nearly  all  the 
people  who  have  ascended  Hekla  for  many  generations. 

Page  215,— Skutustaftir:  — This  should  be  de- 
rived, not  from  the  Icelandic  skuti,  cave,  but  from  an 
old  Viking  who  settled  here  by  the  name  of  Skuti.  I 
am  indebted  for  this  correction  to  Thorfcur  Floventsson 
of  Svatdkot. 

Page  216,  —  Krakd:— This  word  is  more  correctly 
derived  from  the  Icelandic  Krakd,  the  name  of  a  witch. 
In  Chapter  XIII  I  derived  it  from  kraki,  crow  or  ra- 
ven. The  following  story  was  related  to  me  in  1913, 
while  struggling  along  its  boggy  margin  by  my  guide, 
61afur  Eyvindsson. 

"There  was  a  witch  by  the  name  of  Krakd  who  lived 
in  the  mountains  up  the  valley.  She  became  angry  with 
a  farmer  over  a  piece  of  fine  meadow  land  which  he 
refused  to  convey  to  her  under  any  condition.  There- 
upon she  threatened  to  destroy  it  if  he  did  not  vield  at 
once.  He  remained  obstinate.  Soon  a  river  poured 
out  from  the  mountains,  laid  waste  the  farm  and  flood- 
ed the  great  meadow,  as  may  be  seen  to  this  day,  es- 
pecially if  the  traveller  goes  from  SkutustaSir  to 
Svatdkot,  Black-River-Farm,  as  we  are  now  doing.  In 
this  instance  his  route  will  be  across  Graerravattt,  Green- 
Lake." 

Graenavattt  is  a  mighty  meadow  with  water  over  all 
of  it,  but  so  shallow  that  the  grass  stands  in  most  places 
out  of  the  water.  It  is  onlv  along  the  edge  of  the 
river,  Krakd,  where  the  water  has  thrown  up  the  black 
sand,  that  it  is  possible  for  ponies  to  proceed. 

Railway: — I  have  seen  several  paragraphs  crnin^ 
the  rounds  of  the  American  press  relative  to  a  railroad 
in  Iceland.        had  a  chance  to  ride  on  this  railroad  in 


3o6  APPENDIX 

1 9 13.  It  is  less  than  two  miles  in  length.  It  is  merely 
an  improvised  affair  to  transport  rocks  from  the  quarry 
to  the  two  great  breakwaters  that  are  being  built  to 
protect  the  harbor  of  Reykjavik. 

There  is  some  discussion  in  the  Althing,  (winter  of 
1 9 14,)  about  the  construction  of  a  railway  from  Reyk- 
javik into  the  rich  grazing  land  near  Eyrarbakki.  At 
the  present  writing  nothing  definite  has  been  done.  It 
seems  that  it  would  be  unwise  to  employ  steam  and  ship 
the  coal  from  Scotland,  when  an  electric  road  can  be 
made  much  more  cheaply  and  there  is  such  an  abun- 
dance of  water  power  for  electricity. 


INDEX 


Aasberg,  35 

Aberdeen,  35 

Aegean,  32 

Ahver,  296 

Akureyri,    70,    203,    204,    207, 

208,  215,  243,  245,  282 
Alexander,  198 
Alfred,  18 
Algeria,  294 
Algiers,  50,  51.  53 
Almannagjd,  87,  91,  93,  94>  98 
Alphonse  of  Castile,  294 
Althing,  25,  64 
America,   23,   34,   48,   61,   80, 

114,    115,    138,    164,   168, 

192,  212,  233,  240 
Arabs,  215 
Arbo,  65 

Arctic  Club,  151,  233 
Ari,  the  Wise,  28 
Arge,  Peter,  39,  40,  46 
Armannsfell,  88,  89,  93 
Arnavatn,  257,  276 
Arrhenius,  238 
Ask,  184,  188 
Askja,  198,  285 
Auth,  20 

B 

Bache,  65 
Baedeker,  65 
Baegisd,  247 
Baegisadalr,  247 
Bagge,  51 
Baldar,  298 


Baltic,  62 

Barbary,  29,  50 

Barnafoss,  288,  289 

Bafcstofa,  141 

Belgium,    71 

Benidiktsson,  V.,   198 

Bergman,   238 

Bergthora,  207 

Berlin,  203,  237 

Berufjordr,  51,  187 

Berzelius,  238 

Bibliography,  29,  30 

Biholsfjall,   194 

Biskuptungur,  121 

Bjarnafell,  103 

Bjornsson,  G.,  63 

Blanda,  259 

Blest,  no,  113 

BolstaSarhUd,  258 

Borg,  252,  291,  293 

Boston,  63 

Botnia,  185,  200,  202,  204,  237 

Brattleboro,  Vt.,  136 

Brei8ifj'6r8r,  20 

British  Isles,  31 

Bruara,  102 

Bruges,  275 

Brunnar,  288 

Brussels,  65 

Bryant-Melville  Cask,    198 

Burnt  Njal,  22,  25,  28,  48,  89, 

93-95,   I37i  154.  158,  207 
Burton,  Capt.,  153 
Byzantium,  23 


Caine,  Hall,  83,  92 


307 


3o8 


INDEX 


Cathedral,  65 

Ceres,  180,  181 

Cicero,  32 

Coffee,  106 

Connecticut,  275 

Constantinople,  31,  294 

Copenhagen,     28,     34,     67-69, 

163,  180 
Creameries,  158 


D 


Danes,  51,  106,  163,  244 

Dasent,  22,  28 

Denmark,  14,  28,  29,  38,  39, 
41,  64,  68,  80,  89,  H5» 
127,  158,  172,  188,  192, 
204,  240 

Dettifoss,  119,  I7*5  213,  235 

Dickens,  267 

Dicuilus,  20 

Djupa,  209,  213 

Dogs,  236 

Draugey,  257,  258,  260 

Driftwood  Bay,  198 

Dublin,  20 

Dufferin,  Lord,  103 


Eastfirthers,  25 

Edinburgh,  63,  136 

Einarr,  262 

EiSisvik,  196 

Eldborg,  172,  175 

ElliSadr,  78 

Emerson,  66 

En  gey,  179,   180 

England,  17,  20,  28,  29,  41,  50, 

64,   7*i   80,   85,   91,    158, 

159,  163 
Ere-Dwellers,  27 
Eric,  14 


Erybyggja  Saga,  20,  26 

Esja,  74,  75,  79,  176 
EskifjbrSr,  184-186,  222 
Ethelred,  23 
Europe,    17,   66,   70,   96,    114, 

136,  138,  169,  179 
Eyjafjalla,  48 
EyjafjorSr,  20,  203,  253 
Eyrarbakki,  161,  162 
Eyriks   Jbkull,   277,   279,    280, 

289 
Eyvindsson,  Glafur,  6,  78,  129, 
204,   227,   238,   252,  256, 
260,  277,  278,  286,  290 


F 


Faroe,  17,   18,  36,  37,  41,  43, 
45,  56,  184,  192,  196,  197, 

295 
Faskrudsfjor&r,  184,  187,  201 
Fata  Morgana,  162 
Faxa,  18 

FaxafjorZfr,  18,  59,  63,  79,  176 
Finland,  268 
FJatey,  203 
Fljotskeitfi,  213 
Floki,  17,  18 
Flosi,  48,  93,  94 
Flosigja,  96 
Fnjoshd,  206-208 
Forests,  102 
Fram,  198 
France,  20,  29,  31,  41,  64,  71, 

in,  138,  188,  189 
Frederick,  Emperor,  294 
Frederick,  King,  89,   102,  I2T. 

*22,   158,   159 
Fridtjof,  200 
Friedeberg.  Walter,  202 
Frigea,  21,  2  so 
Fru  Neilsin,  162,  163 
Fuglasker,  58 


INDEX 


309 


Galtalaekur,  134,  141,  148,  157 
Ganrade,  280 
Gardar,  17,  18 
Geirod,  Lay  of,  249 
Geitlandsd,  288,  289 
Geitlands  J'okull,  286 
Gentleman  John,  50 
Germany,  71,  80,  91,  106,  108, 

115,  122,  159,  172 
Gestavatnt  174 
Geyser  Action,  109 
Geysir,  98,  101,  103-113,  115- 

118,  290 
Gisli,  266 
Gizur,  25 
Gloucester,  56 
Glum,  266 
Good  Templars,  69 
Gorm,  14 
Godafoss,  213 
GoSalands  J'okull,  154 
Governor  of  Iceland,  286,  287 
Gray,  Asa,  128 
Greece,  294 
Greenland,  23,  34,  48 
Grettir,  257,  258,  260,  277 
Grimdavik,  50 
GrimstaSir,  224 
Grimstunga,  268 
GrimstungaheiSi  275 
Griss,  270 
Grist  Mill,  138 
Gulf  Stream,  199 
Gullfoss,  1 1 6-12 1,  213,  290 
Gunnar,  91,  95,  154,  166 
Gyda,  14 

H 

Hafnarfjordr,  51,   176,   178 
Haggard,  H.  R.,  119 


Hakon,  292,  293 

Halco,  36 

Halfdau,  14 

Halfreo'r,  269-274 

Halgeroa,  91,  95 

Halifax,  180 

Hall,  25,  220,  221 

Hallgrimsson,  Jonas,  65,  136 

Hallmundarhraun,  280 

Hals,  208,  215 

Harald  Fairhaired,   14,   15,   17, 

20,  31,  35,  237 
Harek,  294 

Haukadalr,   105,   112,   118 
Haukagil,  269,  275 
Haying,  139,  168 
Hebrides,  17 
Heimaey,   51,    53,    54,    56,    58, 

154 
Heimskringla,   28,   292,   295 

Hekla,  113,  116,  122,  133,  134, 
141,  142,  144-147,  152, 
153,  157,  158,  226,  233 

Hekla's  Eruptions,  145-147 

Helgajell,  54,  56 

Helgason,  Kjartan,  125,  128 

Helgustadir,   187 

Helsingfors,  104 

Henderson,  5,  113,  138,  206, 
207,  224,  282,  297 

Hengill,6s,  94,  176 
Heradsvotn,  245,  255 
Hjallti,  25 
Hjaltalin,  Jon.,  246 
Hjorleifr,  18,  47,  48,  53 
Hj  orle  ifs  hofSi,  19 
HUBarendi,    166,    178 
Hnausar,  259 

Hofs  Jokull,  153,  257,  276 
Holar,  67,  291 
Holland,  71 
Holmar,  222 
Holyfell,  26 


3io 


INDEX 


Hooker,  Dr.  W.  J.,  172,  173, 

230 
Horace,  32 
Horgd,  245-247 
Horgdrdalr,  247 
Hospitality,   163 
Hotel  Island,  60,  69 
Hotel  Reykjavik,  69 
Howard  the  Halt,  27 
Howell,   F.   W.   W.,   27,   28, 

255,  256 
Hrafnagjd,  88,  89,  98 
Hrafnarfj'ordr,  18,  178 
Hrafnkell,  213,  262 
Hrafntinnuhryggr,  232 
Hraundrangar,  248 
Hruni,     123,     124,     126,     127, 

129,   I3Ii   157 
Husavik,    17,    200,    201,    219, 

235 
Hvamn,  20 

Hverfjall,  221,  237 

Hvitd,  76,  113,  116,  119,  123, 

148,  153,  164,  288,  289 
Hvitdvatn,  1 21,  277 


Iceland  Revisited,  poem,  182 

Iceland  Spar,  186 

Ingolfr,  18,  19,  24,  47,  48,  60, 

162,  268 
IngblfshofSi,  19,  48,   162 
Ingmundr,  268 
Ireland,  17,  28 
Isle  of  Man,  20 
Isleifsson,  O.,  160 


Jerusalem,  294 

Jochumsson,  Matt.,   136,  245, 

256 
Jokullsd,  119,  198,  235 
Jonsson,  Ami,  215-217 
Jonson,  Rev.  Finn,  296 
Jorgensen,  84 
Jdtunori,  280 


K 


Kaldd,  177 
Kaldidalr,  288 
Kdlfstindar,  99 
Kalf stroud,  236 
Kalmungstunga,  123,  279,  286, 

288,  289 
Kdrastadir,  84 
Kari,  48,  137 
Keilir,  74,  75 
Kentucky,  240 
Kerlingafjdll,  121 
Ketill,  20 
Kiikwall,  35 
Kleifvatn,  175 
Klinkowstrom,  Baron  Axel,  55, 

199,  202,  237 
Kolfina,  270,  272 
Kolskegg,  159 
Kolyma,   197 

Krafla,  172,  221,  229,  232-234 
Krdkd,  216 
Krakatindr,  148 
Krisuvik,   116,    157,    170,    172, 

174,   175,  230 
Krossaness,  185 
Kiichler,  Carl,  172 
Kyle,  50,  51 


James,  King,  50 

Jan  Mayen,  184,  190,  197,  198 

Jensen,  244 


Labrador,  43,  56,  180 
Ldgthing,  38,  39 


INDEX 


31L 


Lambajell,  148 
Landnamabok,  28,  56 
Langaness,  184,  196,  200 
Lang   J'okull,    112,    116,    118, 

I53>  257,  276,  277 
Laugardalr,    100 
Laugarfell,  105,  107 
Laugarvatrij  lOO 
Laugarvegur,  61 
Laura,  34-36,  106,  172 
Laxd,  123,  131,  164 
Leirnukr,  221,  223,  232-234 
Leith,  34 
Lena,  197 
Leper  Hospital,  62 
Linnaeus,   128,  238 
Lithi,  158 
Ljosavatn,  208,  209,  212,  213, 

215,   238,   251,   288 
LjosavatnsskarS,  208 
Logberg,  29,  65,  93,  94,  96 
Loki,  250 

Loti,  Pierre,  185,  189 
London,  63,  92 
Longfellow,  271 
Louis,  King,  294 
Luther,  Martin,  67 

M 

Magnus,  36 
Manneling,  A.  V.,  104 
Margrjet,  53 
Mark  Twain,  114 
Markarfljot,  154,  158 
Matador,    188,    190- 192,    194, 

196,   199,  200,  202 
Matterhorn,  153 
Mediterranean,  21,  31,  43,  153 
Meijarsoeti,  258 
Meteorological,  72,  73 
Miklibaer,  123,  254,  255 
MiSdalr,  102 


Mohammed,  51 
Moors,  50 
Morad,  54 
Mord,  94 
Morris,  Wm.,  128 
Mossfellsheidi,  83 
Mbdruvellir,  245 
My,  101 

Myvatn,    99,     174,    201,    204, 
213,  2I8-22I,   234,   238 


N 


Naddodd,  17 

Namaskard,  221,   229,   232 

Nansen,  198 

Naup,  Head,  36 

New  England,  46,  48,  63,  85, 
127,   131,   134,   163,  275 

New  Hampshire,  77,   127,   140 

New  York,  63,  81,  179 

New  Zealand,  107 

Niagara,   120,  213 

Nicol,   187 

Noefrholt,  142 

Nomenclature,  82 

Noma,  35,  43 

North  Dakota,  192,  215 

Norway,  17,  19,  20,  23,  25,  27, 
28,  40-43,  62,  70,  71,  in, 
115,   147,   163,   186,  292 

Nova  Zembla,   199 


O 


Obi,  197 

Oddeyri,  245 

Oddi,   159,   160,  291 

Odin,  21,  24,  26,  48,  95,  220, 

280,  281 
Olaf,  the  Holy,  25 
Olaf,  the  White,  20 
Old  Man  of  Hoy,  36,  43 


312 


INDEX 


Olfusdj  25,  103,  116,  164,  167 
Oraefa,  18,  19,  229,  255 
Orkneys,  17,  19,  20,  35,  41,  43 
Oseyri,  164 

Oswald,  Miss,  5,  135,  272 
Oxerd,  89,  90,  93,  95,  "9 
Oxnadalr,  247,  248,  251 


Paris,  92 

Paul,  50 

Pentland,  35 

Periodicals,  69 

Perret,  Frank,  153 

Peterhead,  35 

Philippines,  192 

Pliocene  Formation,  201 

Ponies,  76,  104,  118,  133,  155, 

165,  238 
Povelson,  285 
Powell,  York,  27 


Rangar  Sands,  54 

RanSagnupa,  198 

Religion,  68 

ReydarfjdrfJr,  185 

Reykholt,   28,   290,    291,    294- 

296 
ReykjahliS,  223-225,  235 
Reykjaness,  58,  167,  174 
Reykjavik,   19,   29,    59"6l,   63- 

65,  68,  70,  71,  78,  81,  92, 

104,  130,  136,  152,  162, 
175,  176,  178,  179,  188, 
204,  212,  278,  287,  290 

Rognavald,  15 


Saemimdr,  27,  159,  280,  291 
Safnahus,  64,  65 


Samr,  213 

Saxo  Gramaticus,  in 

Scandinavia,  26,  27,  42,  47,  48, 

55,  62,  87,  92,  125,  138 
Scandsd,  53 
Scarpa,  185 
Scheele,  238 
Schley,  W.  S.,  151 
Schools,  69,  157 
Scot,  Sir  W.,  43,  267 
Scotland,  17,  35,  40,  62,  240 
Scribla,  296 
Seytfisfjbrdr,  63,  184,  192,  195, 

248 
Shakespeare,  137 
Shetland,  17,  19,  147 
Siberia,  86,  197,  199 
Sigurfcsson,  Jon.,  29,  65 
SilfrastaSir,  254,  255 
Skagafjordr,  252,  255,  257 
Skdlafell,  79 
Skdlholt,  68,  296 
Skallagrim,  291 
Skapti,i37 
Skarpfcin,  65 
Skipholt,  1 21-123 
Skjalbreid,  257,  282 
Skalfandaflot,  213 
Skalfandi,   201 
Skalfan  difj  brSr,   1 7 
Skogafoss,  48 
Skuli,  292 
Skutustatfir,     123,     217,     218, 

221,  222,  237,  238 
Slutness,  224,  225 
Snaefells,  74,  79,  176 
Snaeland,  17 

Snorri,  the  Priest,  25,  26,  95 
Snorri,  Sturlason,  28,  159,  178, 

271,  291,  295,  296 
Snorrilaug,  295 
Soap,  109 
Solfatara,  172 


INDEX 


3i3 


Spain,  192 

Spitzbergen,  198 

Sprengisandur,  153 

Springfield,  Mass.,  233,  235 

Stackhouse,  J.  F.,  184 

Stockholm,  55,  200,  237 

Storigjd,  224 

Stranda  Kirkja,  1 70 

Strokr,  1 10,  III 

Stromo,  37,  38,  40 

Sulfur,  173,  174 

Sulur,  93 

Surtshellir,  280,  286,  289 

Surtur,  279,  281 

Sveiflahdls,  177 

Svcinbjom,  136 

Sweden,  71,  106,  115,  170 

SyKel,  216 


Thangbrand,  25,  220,  221 
Thangbrandspollr,  220 
Thinghus,  64,  65,  68,  216,  222 
Thingvallavatn,    79,     84,     93, 

164,  174 
Thingvellir,  25,  29,  77,  78,  83, 

87,  89,  96,  162,  257,  282 
Thjorsd,    131,    132,    148,    153. 

162 
Thjorsdholt,  132 
Thjorsdtun,  160 
Thor,  21,   120,  220,  250,  251 
Thordson,  Sturla,  293 
Thorisdalr,  257,  288 
Thorlak,  Bishop,  67 
Thorlaksson,  Bishop,  28,  67,  68 
Thorlaksson,  Sira,  247 
Thoroddsen,  Th.,  66 
Thorshavn,  36-38 
Thorstein,  51 
Thorstein,  Jon.,  52 
Thorun,  20 


Thorvald,  220 
Thorvaldsen,  A.,  68 
Thverd,  248 

Tilton,  Capt.  D.  N.,  198 
Tindfjallajokull,    153 
Tintron,  99,  219,  220 
Tryggvason,     Olaf,     25,     220, 

269,  295 
Tubal  Cain,  132 
Tungufiot,   105,    116-118,   121, 

164 
Tunis,  294 


u 


United  States,  62,  63,  71,  80, 

179,  215 
Upsala,  203 
Utgard-Loki,   120 
UtliS,  103 


VaffcruSnis,  280,  281 
ValgertSr,  269 

Valholl,  89-91 
Varma,  164 
Vatna  Jokull,   153 
Vatnsdalr,  266 
VadlaheiBi,  205 
Verbruggen,  65 
Verne,  Jules,  282 
VesdahheiSi,  193 
Vestmannaeyjar,  49 
Vestr-Rdngd,  142 
Vesuvius,   148,   149,  153 
Vigridi,  281 
Vilborg,  53 
Vilpd,  53 

Vindheima,  206,  246 
Viti,  234,  235 

ViBejt  180 

ViBxmyri,  257 


3H 

Vogsosar,  171 
Von  Trull,  146 
Vopnafj'orSr,  195,  200 

w 


Washington,  George,  65 

Water  dale,  27 

Westman  Isles,  19,  48,  49,  51, 

53,  54,  144,  154,  298 
White  Mts.,  233 
William,  the  Conqueror,  294 
WinterliS,  220 


INDEX 


Worcester,  Mass.,  127 
Wright,  Frederick,  277 

Y 

Yankee,  47,  85,  167,  240 
Yellowstone,  107 
Yeneissei,  197 

Z 

Zoega,  Geir,  6 

Zoega,  Helgi,  6,  60,  61,  77,  204 

Zoega,  Johannes,  76,  77,  81-83, 

90,  98,  104,  106,  113,  142. 

150,   154,   164 


Ml 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DUE  ON  THE  LAST  DATE 
STAMPED  BELOW 

AN  INITIAL  FINlToF  25  CENTS 

WILL  BE  ASSESSED  FOR  FAILURE  TO  RETURN 
TH,S  BOOK  ON  THE  DATE  DUE.  THE  PE^ALTV 
WILL  INCREASE  TO  SO  CENTS  ON  THE  FOURTH 
DAY  AND  TO  $,.00  ON  THE  SEVENTH  dIy 
OVERDUE.  tNTH     DAY 


APR   22  1934 


Mar 


-W. 


mt 


KTOAPft     {  fly 


JJftR22  1939 


-AKH_13_J^ 


JihL. 


« 1  4  195 


25Apr'62JF 


— TtE'e^D-tD- 


WT~mr^l£{x3~i37i 


83 


tfmTrtm^P^w3-& 


1  -i»  21-100m-7,'38 


' 


LIBRARY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 


LD  62A-50m- 
(F5756sl0)94IJA 


General  Library 

L  Diversity  erf  California 

Berkeley 


ill 


n 


wEm 


i  ■ 


Wmm 


fl8!HHS 


K'Nu 


HP 

HBBUiD 


■flMIHMHIItMMIi 

in  |m| 

■H      MBS2f£M#*iUn 


■ 


